Make Your Final Choice
by mickytaka558
Summary: "I came here for a reason." Tooru tilts his head to the side, the smirk still there but his whole expression turning into one of well-played confusion. "Oh? May I know what it is?" "You."
1. Leave Your Grudges Behind

It's been a week since Karasuno managed to beat Aobajousai and advance to the last match of the prefecture. It was a though loss for the latter team, but there was _always_ that small but bright glint of hope that at least they would be the ones able to beat Shiratorizawa and finally give Wakatoshi a proper lesson.

Tooru was hoping for that; Hajime was too; and so was the rest of their team.

They had wished them luck and asked them to kick _his_ ass for them as well. And Karasuno's players assured them they would.

* * *

 _They don't._

Tooru watches the ravens fall, one by one, and realizes it is really over. Neither this time has he managed to even reach him, let along beat him. He goes home as soon as the ball hits the floor for the last time with bitterness on his tongue.

* * *

There is one more month to go until graduation.

The third years are already retired from the club to focus on their studies; Shigeru is chosen to become the new captain of the team and they part ways with the promise of one last dinner all together once the finals are over.

However, Tooru still keeps coming to the gym.

He knows should be locked up in his room, devouring his school books and absorbing information until he can't take it anymore; and yet, here he is, after everyone is already gone and he is alone and free to practice until his body begs him to stop.

Today though, he can't focus.

The memory of his team's defeat is still fresh in his mind and even though he keeps telling himself countless times that it is over and he should be _letting it go_ , it still hurts as if that ball slipped through his hands just minutes ago. He doesn't know what to do to make it go away.

He didn't manage to see Wakatoshi after his victory. The bastard didn't even bother to come and watch his match; neither he or him teammates ever have, too aware of and confident in their unstoppable strength to even think about studying their opponents' moves. The only words the two exchanged was when they crossed each other when Tooru's team was leaving.

When Tooru remembers what they told each other, _what Wakatoshi told him_ , he can't help but be pissed off all over again.

Maybe it's better like this though. At least he didn't have to face those eyes on him when he was on court, even if, for a split moment, he found himself wondering how it would have been. When that ball hit the floor, would Wakatoshi have watched him with disappointment? Or maybe pity? Tooru bets on the first one; he can hardly imagine the second.

Fortunately, he will never know.

He jumps for the umpteenth time and hits the ball, making it fly perfectly on the other side of the court. When he lands, he wipes his sweaty face with his shirt before taking in a deep breath. The next one has to be stronger.

Suddenly the door behind him opens.

 _Shit,_ he thinks, realizing only then that it is already dark outside and that Hajime is probably about to kick his ass before dragging him home.

"Ah! Iwa-chan, I was just about to leave-"

He turns around, the best smile he can pull off at the moment already on his face, but his body freezes as soon as he is facing the exit.

"Oikawa."

Tooru's expression turns blank, body freezing in place while his arms fall limp on his sides. The deep voice echoes in his ears, piercing into his head and making it spin.

 _Ushijima Wakatoshi_.

His mouth is suddenly full of his own saliva and it takes him a moment to realize it and then to swallow until it is empty. He blinks a couple of times, not believing his own eyes, but the image in front of him is crystal clear, whether he finds it pleasant or not (and he definitely _doesn't_ ).

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and then collects himself, because now it's _not_ the time to show himself weak and tired in front of his rival. So he gives it his best shot. He smirks, eyes focusing on the taller man, and heads forward, stopping only when a few steps away./p

Their eyes meet.

 _And it all begins._

"Well well, if it isn't Ushiwaka-chan~" His voice holds the usual childhood tone he uses around his fangirls, but there is a different, menacing one underneath it that both of them are aware of. "You're in the wrong gym, you know? Are you by any chance lost?"

Wakatoshi stays still in place, staring down at him, and Tooru finds himself cursing those five centimeters he lacks to stand up to him.

"No." Wakatoshi doesn't react to Tooru's teasing, face icy cold like it always is. "I came here for a reason."

Tooru tilts his head to the side, the smirk still there but his whole expression turning into one of well-played confusion. "Oh? May I know what it is?"

"You."

Hazel eyes widen and the whole facade starts to crumble. If he lost faith in his eyes at first, now he is starting not to believe his ears either. At first he opens his mouth, and then he closes it, but Wakatoshi doesn't move from his spot and his expression doesn't give anything out.

 _Stiff as ever, aren't you?_ When the setter manages to digest that sentence, he smirks again, this time in amusement. "Woah, Ushiwaka-chan! Is this a confession?"

Wakatoshi doesn't react this time either; he just rolls his eyes once before they land on Tooru's face again.

The latter pouts, pretending to be disappointed by the lack of answer. "Guess it isn't then," but he doesn't end it there. He waits for him to speak, because he doubts that Ushijima Wakatoshi is the type of person who wanders around, especially by other schools' gyms, without a reason.

He waits, yes, but all he gets is silence.

So he sighs and turns around, walking to where he left the cart: He pushes it to the other side of the court slowly, and then proceeds to put away the balls scattered all over the place.

Once the court is empty, he turns around and finds Wakatoshi standing in the same place. He rolls his eyes again and leans on the now full container. "You know, if you're planning on staying there without telling me your reasons, I'm leaving." He waits exactly five seconds - he counts them in his head, maybe a little bit too quickly, and then makes his way to the equipment room.

He adjusts the cart in the free corner and then adjusts the pommel horse the gymnastics team asked them to keep in here for two weeks, until they are done readjusting their own equipment room. It has been a bother since day one, only occupying precious space and making the place even more stuffed than it already was.

When he turns around, he yelps in surprise when he finds Wakatoshi standing behind him, a couple of steps away from the door. "What the hell, Ushiwaka-chan! At least tell me you're here!"

"You have seen me before."

Tooru rolls his eyes, _again_ ; he is always stating the obvious, isn't he? Then, he rubs his face with both of his hands, trying to keep his cool and hide every possible part of him that shows just how much he doesn't want him to be there. But then he gives up, because Wakatoshi should already know.

"Yeah... I've seen you. But I still don't know _why_ you're here."

"I told you that too."

"And I'm asking you to be more specific." Then, after a short pause, he clicks with his tongue, a grimace replacing the fake smirk from before. "Don't tell me you've come here just to rub salt in my wounds."

 _Because it still hurts._ And Wakatoshi's presence, so fierce and powerful compared to his own, even after all those years spent in trying to become just as strong, makes it only harder and harder.

The spiker shakes his head. "I am not like you, Oikawa. I do not need something of the sort to make myself feel better."

Tooru glares at him, but he knows he's right; his past with Tobio must be common knowledge by now. Yet, something like this coming from him just doesn't sound right.

"Then _what_ do you need from me, Ushiwaka-chan?"

"Do not call me that."

"Answer my question."

Wakatoshi straightens his back, his eyes never leave Tooru's face and just observe, study every detail. Then he opens his mouth and asks something Tooru doesn't expect. Not yet at least.

"Where will you go after graduation?"

Tooru gasps, taken aback by the direct question. He doesn't really understand how the mind of the person in front of him works, he never will: at first, Wakatoshi barely says anything and then he comes up with questions capable of throwing anyone off their feet. Truth to be told, the reason Tooru reacts like this is because he doesn't have a clue on what to do next. He had accepted to go to a few meetings with the coaches of the Miyagi prefecture universities and a couple of others from nearby cities, but he still hasn't given an answer to any of them.

Because what he wants is still missing and it's keeping him from finally making his decision.

"And why do you care about something like that?"

"Because I want you to come with me. To Tokyo."

Wakatoshi says it as if it were the most normal thing in the world, but to Tooru it feels like a bullet shot directly at his heart, causing him to feel pain in every part of his body. It is humiliating; he is not ready for something like this.

 _Tokyo._

The reason why he found himself waiting to give his answer.

He was hoping to be scouted by that one particular university during the Spring High, but no meeting request ever came; and why would it even? He lost so miserably to Karasuno; there is no way anyone would want him after that. Once again, he managed let everyone down and this, _his weakness_ , is what took everything away from him when he needed it the most.

And now here it is.

Hearing Wakatoshi's words makes every cell of Tooru's body doubt about it. Sure, it is something he wanted so badly, but if he even considers it and eventually ends up accepting it, his rivalry with him is going to come to an end. And-

"Why?"

"Because I _want_ you."

Tooru's mouth drops open, the blood in his veins turns cold.

How could Ushijima Wakatoshi possibly _want_ him after defeating him so many times? He is so, _so_ strong, a player of the National team, a champion; and yet he is here, in front of the weak being that Oikawa Tooru is, because he wants him?

The inside of Tooru's mouth is once again full. And he swallows again.

It takes him longer than he is used to to regain some of his composure.

"Are you sure this is not a love confession, Ushi-"

"Oikawa."

It is then that Tooru finally understands the true meaning of his words.

He is telling him to give up.

Wakatoshi is telling him to let all of his grudges and rivalry go, to forget all the sweat and tears he wasted while trying so desperately to at least reach him. And he is making it sound as if it all were worthless, nonexistent. He lowers his head, letting his still sweat-damp bangs cover his eyes.

"Just how dare you?"

Wakatoshi blinks.

"How dare you ask me this after everything you've done to me?" The way he puts it is not exactly correct; because Wakatoshi has never forced him to do any of the things he did, not once, but the anger and jealousy in Tooru has always made him put all the blame on him. Maybe it is because of his attitude as well, so cold and distant and unreachable, that keeps pushing the setter to want to touch and grab it and _shatter it_ in pieces with his own two hands.

So, _yes_. He blames him.

"My only goal at the moment is to beat you, you know it. And now you're asking me to just give up on it and come _with_ you?" His voice is louder than he plans, but all the frustration built during these past few weeks have already filled everything that was available. It is him who is crumbling down in the end.

"Yes."

Tooru's eyes widen for a split second before he narrows them and looks up, ready to reply angrily for the straightforward foolishness of his answer.

"Because you are never going to succeed," Wakatoshi doesn't give him the chance.

Tooru's muscles stiffen, hands clenching into fists and nails digging harshly into the sweaty palms. His body starts to shake as rage boils inside of him. "I would've shown you if only I had the chance... If it weren't for Karasuno, I would've-"

"Shiratorizawa emerged victorious," Wakatoshi interrupts, "In the end."

And of course it did, Tooru thinks. They destroyed Karasuno just the way they used to do with his team, without any sign of mercy; not even a tiny bit. And then they just walked away from the court, as if nothing happened, leaving the losers crouching on the floor, trying so desperately to hold back their tears, but failing miserably.

Tooru knows that feeling; he has been there so many times and from what it seems Wakatoshi is here to remind him that for good; and it makes the question come out almost spontaneously. "If I'm that weak then, _why_ do you want me on your team?"

He observes the way Wakatoshi's expression never falters; he barely blinks a couple of times to avoid his eyes running dry, but there is nothing more. And it angers him to no end just how easily he loses control over himself and how the man in front of him behaves as if there is nothing that could possibly break him from the inside.

"It is your team that is weak. Not you." Then, he takes a step forward, and Tooru wants to step back so badly it hurts, but his body doesn't want to move, eyes fixed on Wakatoshi's lips as they keep speaking. "And there is nothing you could have ever done to fix that, because they do not have what it takes to take you to the top and obtain victory."

Tooru grits his teeth. "And let me guess: _you_ are the one who does?"

"Yes."

There is no hesitation in Ushijima's voice, it is always so steady and deep, but this time Tooru can't help himself from letting out a sarcastic chuckle. "My, my... So humble, aren't you?"

"I am just telling the truth."

Tooru doesn't want his truth though. He's been training, and planning, and watching for all these years. And he's going to reach him, one way or another. He shakes his head. "I'll find a way to beat you." He and Hajime can do it, no matter what team they're on. They are going to make it in the end.

Wakatoshi seems to read what is on his mind.

"You must be referring to your number four, am I correct?" He sees as Tooru's expression grows stiff, mouth gaping open to say something, but no sound comes out in the end. Because once again he is not done. "Iwaizumi Hajime... He won't be enough to beat me; he is too weak."

It is all it takes for Tooru to snap.

"Don't drag Iwa-chan into this!" He is yelling, his body is madly shaking with anger, but he doesn't care anymore. It doesn't matter if his composure is gone; Wakatoshi has clearly come here with this intention and they're alone, so he can allow it just this once.

The spiker can call him weak, useless and whatever else he wants, but belittling Hajime and his hard work... That Tooru won't allow. As his captain. As his setter.

Wakatoshi doesn't seem too concerned or shocked by Tooru's reaction. He just shrugs, a sign of an open challenge towards him. "We both know what I am saying is correct," and then he approaches him even more, until there are barely two steps between them, until Tooru struggles to look up and into those piercing, gold eyes.

"I have watched your games," Wakatoshi begins and Tooru freezes, not being able to believe what he just heard - he has never seen him around when he was playing. "I see it, Oikawa."

Suddenly he feels a lump growing in his throat and there are some seconds during which he isn't able to speak. Fortunately, he manages to regain his voice, because he can't afford to stay silent anymore.

"What do you see?"

Wakatoshi raises his hand and lays it on the setter's shoulder and then slides it over to his neck and then to his chin, finally coming to a stop when it is resting on his cheek. "I see you constantly slogging and hurting yourself to use your teammates' abilities to the fullest, but none of them is able to repay you the way you deserve. You need someone as good as you."

Tooru pulls away from him, stunned by the sudden contact, but then shakes his head. "And once again, let me guess: that person is you." The sarcastic tone is back, but it doesn't hold up as good as it did before.

"Yes. Or someone as good as me, assuming you manage to find him here."

"My my, Ushiwaka-chan... You really need to work on that humble attitude of yours." Wakatoshi doesn't react to it and waits until Tooru gets serious again. "Do you really enjoy acting superior that much?"

Wakatoshi shakes his head slightly. "I am not acting, Oikawa. _I_ am stronger than you, _my team_ is stronger than yours and you should just be able to accept it. Had you had enough common sense before you chose to come here instead of Shiratorizawa, you wouldn't have worked so hard for nothing-"

"Excuse me?" Tooru interrupts him, bewildered. Because this is too much. Tooru is not going to handle him talking any more shit about his teammates.

"For _nothing_? My work, _our_ work gave results in the end!"

"Were they ever enough?"

This time, Tooru can't hold himself back anymore. His body reacts on instinct, like it happened three years ago and he raises his arm, hand clenched into a fist, and punches towards him, not being able to wait to savor the moment it'll finally come in contact with his face.

But it doesn't happen.

When only an inch away from him, Wakatoshi grabs his wrist, blocking his hand in midair and shoving the setter's body against the wall. When his back comes in contact with it, Tooru lets out a yelp and from the corner of his eye, he sees his hand pressed next to his head, the strong grip holding it in place. When he focuses back in front of him with a frown, he notices Wakatoshi's face is inches apart from his own. He immediately tries to push him away with his free hand, but that attempt too ends up blocked as soon as it pops on his mind, and his wrist ends up in the same situation as the first.

Tooru grits his teeth, helplessly. He tries to struggle as much as he can to free himself, but Wakatoshi doesn't budge. He just s _tares._

Tooru clicks with his tongue. "Let me go, Ushiwaka. I know I'm incredibly hot, but you don't have to stare like this."

The lack of answer makes him think he just made a mistake using that sentence, because it could imply God knows what, and the familiar, uncomfortable feeling inside his stomach; the same he had before all those matches and after all those losses is back.

So he moves his body even more, trying to kick him with his foot, but everything he gets in return is Wakatoshi sliding his leg between his to prevent him even that much, and Tooru hisses when his thigh comes in contact with his crotch. "What are you doing, you idiot?! Let me go! NOW!"

Wakatoshi doesn't obey despite the harsh and commanding tone and instead he adjusts his grip on him, raising his arms above his head and pinning both his wrists with one hand, so the other one is let free. "Ushiwa- Ahn!" The pressure between his legs becomes more intense when Ushijima presses his body against his, gold eyes piercing into hazel ones until he finally closes the distance between them, first licking Tooru's bottom lip gently and then meeting his lips with his own.

Tooru stops breathing. He doesn't move, doesn't respond in anyway, his brain having enormous difficulty to process what's just happening to him. He feels his muscles tense all of a sudden and the position he is trapped in turns to be quite a painful one.

Wakatoshi notices his lack of participation and pulls away slightly, only leaving a minimal distance between their lips. He watches as Tooru's wide eyes stare at him, mouth slightly opened as if trying to say something, but missing the words to do so. And just for a moment, Wakatoshi thinks about how nice it is to have Oikawa Tooru standing in front of him, completely _silent._

"What the-"

Wakatoshi silences him with another kiss. This time it is hotter, more aggressive; he nibbles on his bottom lip until the setter opens his mouth wider with a gasp and he loses no time to enter it with his tongue. He hears a soft moan coming from him as he once again tries to resist him and waves his arms underneath his grip, trying to set himself free.

In response, He only adds more pressure with his leg, and Tooru pulls abruptly away from his lips with a moan.

The silence that comes afterward is awkward, for Tooru at least: he blushes furiously and tries to look away, waiting for his mind to be anything but blank. But he doesn't find what he is looking for and instead feels the pleased gaze of Wakatoshi all over him. He pouts slightly. "What are you looking at?"

Wakatoshi brushes his leg against him again and Tooru bites his lip as his breath hitches in his throat. When he somehow gets used to it, he speaks again. "Let me go."

The spiker shakes his head and moves his free hand to the fabric of his pants where his t-shirt is tucked in. He pulls it out with his fingers, very carefully not to shift their position, and when most of it is out, he slides them under it, feeling the soft skin and hard muscles of Tooru's stomach.

Tooru lets out a shaky breath and his head starts to hurt. He can't believe this is happening. Just where is all his strength and will to make this man submit?

He feels Ushijima moving his hand to his back, fingertips tracing the small bumps of his spine. Unconsciously he also weakens the hold on his wrists, and Tooru doesn't wait for him to remember about it. He slides his hands away harshly and pushes against his chest before turning to run the few steps he needs to get out of the damn room.

Wakatoshi doesn't let him.

They are too close to each other for Tooru's plan to succeed.

Instead he finds himself pinned against the now closed door, except his hands are now free, but still unable to be used properly.

Wakatoshi tries to meet his lips again, but this time Tooru puts his hand between their faces, so his mouth comes in contact with his palm. "Stop it! I don't want this!" He is starting to panic. There is no one in the gym who can help him and Wakatoshi doesn't seem to be willing to let go.

"But I do."

His lips move against every single one of Tooru's fingers, before he grabs his arm and pulls it down, leaving the setted speechless and more confused than ever. "W-what?" This is not some kind of joke anymore - not that he thought it was until now, but the confirm he gets from him is making it so _real._

"I want you _with me_. I want you all to myself."

And there is the most sincere look coming along these words and Tooru is not stupid enough to think he's lying. Because Ushijima Wakatoshi _never_ lies.

His body grows limp against the wooden door, his head now free of any pain, his efforts to desperately try to find a way to escape are disappearing because there seems to be no more place for them.

Now he knows.

 _Everything._

He had always thought about it in the past, even when Wakatoshi came to him at the end of his third year of middle school to ask him to join him in Shiratorizawa, but in the end he always ended up brushing it off and telling himself not to be stupid, because there is no way it could be true. But behind all those grudges and jealousy there has always been something else, something Tooru has always taken great care to put away and hide in the deepest depth of his heart and now it's coming to the surface all at once, crushing the walls and spilling out, and Tooru knows there's no way to stop it now.

He feels Wakatoshi's fingers on his cheek and then on the back of his head, pulling him forward. The warmth coming from his body is closer, welcoming him into it and when he stops moving, faces only inches apart, Tooru realizes he is doomed.

 _He falls._

Before he knows it, he is already taking the initiative and closing the distance between them by leaning in into a kiss that starts off gentle, mouths only brushing slightly. He feels Wakatoshi's lips curving up and for a moment he's tempted to pull away to witness it with his own eyes and not only with his skin, but the spiker doesn't give him the chance.

Soon, Tooru is pressed back against the door, but this time the contact doesn't come violently like the first; Wakatoshi's hands slowly slide down his body and land on his hips, eager fingers slowly daring up underneath his shirt to touch where they left off before. Tooru notices it's much gentler this time, almost unfamiliar; he doesn't expect it.

Wakatoshi presses himself against him, mouth now moving from the corner of his lips to his jaw and then to his neck, carefully kissing every part of the exposed skin.

Tooru can't hold back a gasp when he feels gentle nibbling under his ear, eyes fluttering close as he raises his arms to grip on the fabric of Wakatoshi's shirt.

Wakatoshi keeps the soft ministrations for a while, until he has enough and pulls away, leaving Tooru startled, and starts to take off the light blue shirt off. Tooru raises his arms to let him do it, his mind constantly screaming and telling him to stop, but his body not giving a damn and just _letting_ him.

Once removed, the shirt gets tossed away, somewhere in the back of the room, and Wakatoshi has already wrapped his arms around the setter and has him moving towards the pile of mattresses next to the door, where he makes him sit. He then spreads his legs and positions himself between them.

For the whole time, Tooru looks at him. He lets all his past grudges and doubts aside for a moment and just _looks._

He notices the glint in Wakatoshi's eyes as he takes a moment to let them wander over Tooru's newly exposed skin and when he approaches him again to kiss him, he allows him and opens his mouth, meeting him halfway.

Tooru has never expected such a gentle touch to be able to come from one of the strongest players in Japan and someone with such a personality like his. He definitely _doesn't_ dislike it, he decides, especially when the object of this gentleness is himself.

He kisses him back, finally allowing himself to fully wrap his own arms around the taller man's torso. When they pull away to breathe, Tooru impatiently tugs at the Shiratorizawa jacket Wakatoshi's still wearing, so the latter slides it down his arms and drops it at his feet. But the setter isn't satisfied yet. He starts tugging at the shirt underneath as well, a small pout forming on his lips. "Off."

Wakatoshi complies, raising his shirt up and taking it off, only to reveal his firm muscles, covered by thick, ripped flesh and skin. Tooru unconsciously licks his lips, hands starting to shake because of the lack of contact and it stops only when Wakatoshi allows him to make them roam all over his body, to touch, to _feel_ every part of him.

Hazel eyes look up to meet gold, and Wakatoshi catches it. He sees Tooru's body tensing and to relieve it he wraps his arm around his lower back and before he can do anything else, Tooru is already grinding against him. He is already half hard, Wakatoshi notices, just like him.

Tooru groans at the friction, throwing his head back as he keeps forcing his hips to meet the spiker's. Wakatoshi grunts a couple of times and then takes advantage of Tooru's position to place an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss on his exposed throat, making him moan loudly.

He then pulls abruptly away from him, receiving in response a desperate whine and a disappointed (and perhaps confused) look.

It is now Tooru who is searching for him. He moves forward, gripping on his upper arms tightly and pulling him towards himself. Wakatoshi understands that teasing him is no longer an option and decides it is time to take it further to the next level.

His hands are already on his thighs, slowly sliding up to the fabric of his shorts only to start tugging on them to slide them down his legs. Tooru raises his hips from the mattress to let them be removed and then watches as Wakatoshi throws them away as well. As soon as they hit the floor, they are forgotten, because Wakatoshi is already kissing him and palming his erection through his briefs, making Tooru moan loudly, feeding his voice to the spiker.

Tooru is forced to pull away to breathe when the hand slides underneath the cloth and wraps around his cock. He feels himself growing weaker, eyes shutting and arms falling back for support. He completely submits himself to the next assault on his lips, opening his mouth and letting Wakatoshi enter it with his tongue.

His mind goes blank when the hand around his cock finally starts to move slowly, the thumb brushing over the slit every now and then, bringing him closer to the edge. Wakatoshi doesn't take his time with it; he seems to be impatient now, because the pace he moves against him is fast; and Tooru opens his mouth to say it, but as soon as he does, three fingers of Wakatoshi's free hand are shoved inside and pressed against his tongue.

Hazel eyes widen, but Wakatoshi's gaze makes him understand in the end. He sucks on them gently, tongue swirling around them, making sure to coat them enough with his saliva and when he is sure they are slick enough, he pulls away, giving a small, almost invisible nod.

Wakatoshi doesn't lose time; he pushes him down gently, so he is lying on his back on the mattress and his legs are hanging down at first, until Wakatoshi pulls down his briefs and exposes his already leaking cock. He watches as Tooru raises his legs to his chest, and then he is touching him again.

With the other hand, he reaches his hole and rubs the first moist finger around it a couple of times before pushing in. Tooru hisses at the sudden intrusion, but Wakatoshi's expression is telling him to relax, so he does, taking in a few deeps breaths; the spiker doesn't kiss him, giving him the opportunity to do so.

He feels the digit sink in down to the base, moving and teasing his inner walls to stretch them. When he pulls it out, Tooru lets out a gasp, and when he enters him again, there are two of them. Tooru lets out a small cry, body tensing because of the increbly strong pressure.

It is not painful, no, just a little uncomfortable, but Tooru has done this plenty of times to know it is not going to last long. He is quick to relax around him, and Wakatoshi's hand around his cock eases the job a lot. The entrance of the third finger is the easiest one, because by then, Tooru is already moving his hips against them, letting out lewd sounds every time the fingers are inside him down to the base.

And then Wakatoshi curls them, brushing against his prostate, and his eyes split open, back arching as a wave of pleasure runs up his spine. What he sees above him is Wakatoshi with a smirk and it doesn't take much for Tooru to get he is apparently an amusing sight for his eyes; well, he _is_ at his mercy after all. His body isn't listening to him anymore, only reacting to the other man's touch, almost begging for more.

Wakatoshi gives it to him immediately.

He works his cock faster, timing the thrusts of his fingers with it, and every thought that Tooru managed to form in the meanwhile disappears without a trace as he reduces himself into a moaning mess that is soon shut up with a sloppy kiss.

It is hard to breathe with lips against his, his lungs are screaming for air as he slowly reaches his edge, warmth pooling inside his stomach.

"Ahn! U-Ushiwa- Hmph!"

Wakatshi doesn't let him, crashing his lips against the setter's.

Tooru's body shudders underneath him, arms moving around and grabbing his bare shoulders, nails painfully digging in and scratching until Wakatoshi pulls away-

"P-please... I'm- Ahn!"

Wakatoshi's grip around him tightens and with one last twist of his wrist, Tooru comes with a loud moan, warm semen spilling all over the spiker's hand.

His body collapses backwards, falling limp of the soft fabric of the mattress, eyes closed and chest raising up and down to catch his breath again. Tooru feels it growing weak as he finally gets down from his high, somehow relieved that it's over.

But then he opens his eyes and he realizes just how wrong he is.

Wakatoshi is standing in front of him, the stained hand raised up slightly as he watches the brunette in front of him. And then his other hand is back on his cock, and Tooru lets out a strangled sound, his body oversensitive from before. It is making it rather uncomfortable.

But then he is pulled up and on his feet, turned around so his back is pressed against Ushijima's chest. Only then he realizes just how hard Wakatoshi is, when his clothed erection is pressed against his ass. His breath hitches in his throat when he is pushed against the pommel horse and then bent over it.

He hears the shuffling of clothes from behind him Wakatoshi lowers his pants enough to pull his hard cock out and then proceeds to smear Tooru's cum all over it to use it as a lubricant. The setter turns around, still quite shocked; he was expecting to give him a blowjob in return, but he was _not_ expecting this ; and when he feels the big hands of the spiker being placed on his hips, he tries to move away.

But Wakatoshi reacts faster and ends up leaning forward and pressing his arm against his back, hand grabbing the back of his neck to hold him still. And Tooru doesn't try to escape from him again.

He feels the head of his cock slowly pressing against his entrance and then it's pushing against it, slowly making its way in. Tooru lets out a scream when he feels his muscles being forced open inch by inch until Wakatoshi is inside of him whole.

Tooru's body starts to shake in pain and Wakatoshi doesn't move, waiting for him to adjust to the feeling. He bends over him, careful not to move his hips, and places gentle kisses on his nape and shoulders. The hand on his neck moves down Tooru's body to wrap itself around his cock, slowly moving over it, and it doesn't take long for the setter to get hard again.

Wakatoshi gives an experimental thrust and what he gets in return is a soft moan. He nibbles gently on his ear, and Tooru finally turns his head to glance at him from the corner of his eye. His gaze is weak, tired, and Wakatoshi can't believe he is having it in front of him like this.

"Y-you can move..."

The words are a mere whisper, stuffed between gasps and deep breaths he is taking to calm down and Wakatoshi knows that if he said it, it means it's true. So he straightens up, anchoring his hands on his hips and raising him up gently adjust him better on the pommel horse. Now he can thrust at a perfect angle, and he does, hitting immediately Tooru's sweet spot.

Tooru buries his face in the leather underneath him and it swallows all the moans and cries he lets out for a while, until he turns his head to the side, resting his cheek on it instead.

The first few thrusts are slow, but Tooru moans nonetheless - Wakatoshi goes deep and makes sure it feels good for him; he keeps hitting the right spot with each thrust - and then it goes faster. And harder.

Tooru's voice gets louder, knuckles turning white as he desperately tries to clutch the light-colored material under his hands. He also hears Wakatoshi starting to grunt, the grip on his hips tightening considerably and he is pretty sure it's going to leave a mark.

But he is not in a condition to care at the moment.

"Ahn! U-ushi- Ngh!"

The need to reach down his body to grab his cock is overwhelming, but the way Wakatoshi holds him trapped underneath himself makes it impossible.

Wakatoshi rams into him even faster and Tooru feels his eyes rolling back into his head as he moans his lungs out, his body getting close to his second orgasm and he's not sure he can handle it. His muscles tense once again, his inner walls clamping tightly around Wakatoshi's cock.

The spiker's voice comes out as well and he instinctively pushes Tooru against the pommel horse even more. He loses his rhythm with every thrust, until they both are so close it becomes just an erratic meeting of hips.

Tooru has never been fucked like this, so viciously and yet so... thorough; if Wakatoshi wasn't hitting that one spot inside him that makes him go crazy every time he comes in contact with it, Tooru's pretty sure every thrust of his would feel as if it were ripping him apart. He still needs one more thing though.

"P-please- Ahn! Touch me, U- _Ushijima_..."

Wakatoshi doesn't comply this time; instead, he keeps moving the way he has until now and Tooru realizes that, if he keeps it up, he is going come just from having his ass fucked, and it is most likely going to be more intense than it was the first time.

He tries to turn around once again, dragging his teeth over the skin of his bottom lip but it stops when he keens high in his throat once Wakatoshi is grinding into his ass with pure brute force, and his head ends up dropping soundlessly on the leather.

"You feel so good-"

Tooru barely hears those words, too busy with screaming himself raw; he doesn't even bother wiping away the drool that comes out of his mouth and flows down his chin. Instead, he focuses on the feeling in his lower stomach, growing and _painfully_ growing until it crests and his cock jolts, and he is coming so hard Wakatoshi is forced to hold him still, otherwise they'd both be losing their balance and falling onto the floor.

His mouth gapes open but no sound comes out, lungs too empty to let any. His muscles spasm harder as Wakatoshi keeps fucking him through his orgasm, his heartbeat so fast he feels his heart might just break his bones and rip his skin and fall out like nothing.

And then Wakatoshi's giving the last, impossibly hard thrusts before burying himself inside of him down to the base and letting out a sound that almost seems like a roar. Tooru feels warm semen exploding inside of him and whines, trying but not really to change position, his inner muscles spasming uncontrollably at the feeling of being filled up.

They are both panting by the end of it. Wakatoshi finally lets go of Tooru's hips and pulls his softening cock out of him, some of his cum spilling out and dripping down Tooru's inner thigh.

He watches it for a moment, wondering whether he should wipe it off or not; and he chooses the second option; he can clean him up later - and ends up bending over him to lean his chest on his back. As soon as he catches some of his breath, his mouth finds the skin of Tooru's shoulder like before and kisses it.

He is gentle; extremely gentle; maybe even more than he was in the beginning.

They stay like that for a while and eventually Wakatoshi shifts on his feet so he's not over him with his full weight. His hands find their way to Tooru's back, caressing it whole with open palms, feeling the shape of his rib cage on his sides but the setter doesn't react to any of it.

His eyes are closed, body extremely limp underneath the spiker and for a moment he thinks he might have fainted. But when he kisses his nape, he feels him twisting his neck as he turns his head to the side. Wakatoshi looks at his eyes, empty and transparent, so he just holds him in place, steadily, until he is sure he is fine again.

He knows he is when his body moves, trying to stand straight, so Wakatoshi moves away and gives him space.

Tooru's body is shaky, and when he tries to climb off the pommel horse, Wakatoshi tries to give him a hand so he's sure he won't collapse.

But Tooru pushes him away.

"Don't touch me!"

So Wakatoshi doesn't. He'll take this time to adjust his clothes properly. He pulls up his pants and briefs and then looks around for his t-shirt. When he finds it, in the corner of the room where he threw it before, he picks it up and puts it on. Then he once more checks on Tooru, who's still standing where he left off, leaned against the pommel horse with his arms.

He seems to be in a daze, so Wakatoshi decides to give him more time.

Tooru is thinking, his mind slowly clearing up.

The realization of what just happened between them - of what he let Wakatoshi do to him - dawns upon him and slaps him right in the face, and he feels as if everything he has done until now is crumbling in his hands. He hopes it's a dream, but every part of the room, the mess they made, his very own naked and aching body-

 _It is very much real._

And then Wakatoshi is behind him. Tooru feels warmth on his chin and suddenly his body is being turned around and his head is being raised up until their lips meet for the umpteenth time that evening. His eyes widen, the way he's feeling is just something he can't control. Being so submissive is not how he is. He-

"Oikawa."

He is dragged away from his thoughts when Wakatoshi calls his name and only then he realizes he is still being held by those strong arms.

It can't be. It can't be; _it can't-_

"What are you doing?" The question leaves his mouth almost immediately, but all he gets in return is a confused look and a raised eyebrow. He feels Wakatoshi cupping his cheek carefully, as gentle as possible and he just doesn't understand. Nothing makes sense anymore.

"I am kissing you," he says.

It takes Tooru some time to process it and as soon as he does, he pushes him away. "Move away. I want to dress up." And he feels disgusted with himself.

He is the type of guy who permanently holds grudges; his rivalry with Wakatoshi turned into hate as time went by and he has never stopped thinking about him with that focused in his mind. It is because of him that he has always keeps training to exhaustion. It is because of him he and Hajime have cried so many times. It is because of him that he ended up hurting himself so badly that he is to wear a knee supporter for the rest of his life.

And now he let him do _this_ to him. And the worst thing of all is that he actually _liked_ it. The way Wakatoshi kissed him, the way he touched him...

He shakes his head, turning away abruptly. He takes in a deep breath before he starts seeking for his clothes, which are sprawled across the small storage room. As soon as he reaches every piece, he wears them quickly, angrily, not even bothering to wipe the now almost dry sperm still staining his leg, and the only voice shouting inside his head is telling him _this shouldn't have happened._

"What?"

It is then that Tooru realizes he said it out loud. _Dammit..._

He doesn't turn around. He doesn't face him; he _doesn't want_ to face him. Who knows what kind of look Wakatoshi is wearing right now; who knows what is inside of his mind. He must be so proud of himself now that he managed make him submit like he has wanted to do for so many years.

He feels the spiker behind himself again; a hand slides on his shoulder, caresses him with the lightest of touches. Tooru pulls away. "Don't touch me!" It comes too harsh and he immediately looks at him, an involuntary apology plastered all over his face. But he means what he said. "Please... Don't touch me." His voice is weaker now, so much that it comes out as a quiet whisper.

Yet, that still won't change what happened in the past half an hour (maybe even longer, Tooru doesn't know) inside this room. And the thought of Hajime, how he did this behind his back... Sure, they are not together, they have never been; but they were exclusive. His spiker is the only one he ever let do anything to him. And now-

Blood boils inside his veins and he just can't take it anymore. He reaches for the mattresses, punching them once as hard as he can to let out all the anger and frustration and then ends up leaned over the pile.

Wakatoshi only watches, waiting for him to collect himself a bit before approaching him again. When he is sure he will no be receiving the blow like those poor things, he decides to speak,to ask: "What's wrong?"

Tooru's body tenses, head turning towards him and disbelief written all over his face. " _What's wrong?!_ How can you ask me what's wrong? Were you even here in the last half an hour?"

That doesn't answer Wakatoshi's doubts. It leaves him even more confused, if possible.

Tooru understands the situation immediately and waves his hand, motioning to both of them. " _This_ shouldn't have happened."

"I heard what you said before."

"Then what else do you want me to say?"

"Why?"

Tooru swallows. He should have expected that.

Wakatoshi approaches him wordlessly; he wants Tooru to speak; to let him know what is on his mind. He can't make it better if he doesn't know what is wrong. Tooru turns to the side, his weight now shifted on the pommel horse as he leans on it with his lower back.

"This is just wrong," he begins. "I trained for years, ended up collapsing quite a few times and even hurting myself beyond repair... To get better even just a little and to beat you. We've been against each other so many times and our attempts ended up in miserable failure every time. I swore I hated you and I promised I wouldn't give up. And now _this_."

The proposal Wakatoshi has brought to him is the root of his messy feelings. That, and the fact that he just reduced himself to beg the spiker to fuck him after just a couple of nice words, he assumes, Wakatoshi didn't even mean in the first place.

Wakatoshi proves him wrong the second later. He places himself in front of him, making sure he is unable able to escape and avoid him again and then he raises his arms and wraps his jacket around the setter's shoulders.

Tooru jumps immediately, ready to shove it off himself, but Wakatoshi holds it firmly against his body, preventing him to do so. "I don't need it!" Because those colors burn.

Wakatoshi, however, doesn't listen and, with a lot of effort,manages to force Tooru into sliding his arms into the sleeves and then adjusting it so it keeps him warm. After all the sweat of his practice and their previous activity, if his body grows cold now, he will probably get sick.

"I do not really understand you, Oikawa."

Tooru snorts. "And how could you, possibly? You've never even come closer to experience what I have. You've always won and got everything you wanted." His words are cold; colder than they would be on a normal day when he tries to provoke him before a match. Because now things between them are changed and they're most likely not going to be back the way they were before.

"And now you consider yourself as one of my prizes as well, right?"

All he gets is a glare and he deducts the answer is a yes. "I want to win, Ushiwaka..." Once again, it's a whisper.

Wakatoshi sighs.

Tooru is still glaring, clearly pissed off by so many things by now and there is nothing much he can do about it. He cups his cheek and, even though Tooru tries to resist him again, he somehow manages to keep him still and still hold him.

"Would it help you if I told you that if you come with me, that feeling will be gone? You want to win and I can bring you victory." The hand on his cheek moves up to move a strand of brown hair from the setter's face, a small smile appears on the spiker's face. "I would have already brought it to you, had you chosen me since the beginning."

Even this sentence feels like a slap in the face, and Tooru wonders how he can make him feel like this with plain, truthful words. He is making him doubt every single choice he's made ever since he got into middle school. And something in his chest starts to hurt badly when he thinks that _maybe_ all that was a mistake. _Maybe_ he should have chosen Wakatoshi from the start.

He observes the way Wakatoshi's eyes are lingering on his body, an obviously satisfied expression on his face. Tooru doesn't remember if he's ever seen him showing so many emotions in one day - he has probably never showed so many during all of their meetings smashed together.

"What are you looking at?"

Wakatoshi flinches, as if his words just pulled him down to Earth. And then Tooru feels warm skin against himself and there is peace in his chest, his heartbeat back to its normal rhythm.

"This jacket suits you."

It is not just about the jacket, Tooru knows. "You're mocking me now, aren't you?" But then he lowers his head, moving it away from Wakatoshi's touch and shrugs. "It's too late now anyway."

"It is not."

"Huh?"

"You can still fix your mistakes," Wakatoshi tells him. If he chooses him now, university is going to be _their_ chance. Sure, there are going to be lots of stronger players, especially because it would be Tokyo but Wakatoshi could finally play at his fullest strength. Because he would have Tooru as his setter.

He should have used different words perhaps.

Because Tooru shakes his head.

"They weren't a mistake," he begins, before looking up with a small smile on his face. "I don't regret coming here; I love this team." They are his team and he is their captain. And he loves them no matter if they win or lose, because that is all part of the game.

Wakatoshi's admiration for him grows even more after he says this. Because this is what he has always wanted.

 _Loyalty._

"You are so loyal to them even though they failed you so many times," _I want that._ And he doesn't need to say it out loud.. He will never fail him if Tooru chooses him right now.

He _wants_ Tooru to choose him so bad and the thought of his possible rejection makes him feel weird.

"Winning is not everything."

Gold eyes widen.

"It might be the final goal of every sport, but I'd choose without hesitation countless losses with a team that's there for me no matter what, instead of always winning and be left alone."

Now it is Wakatoshi's turn to be speechless. How could he possibly know? His throat suddenly feels dry when he realizes that Tooru doesn't seem to be joking. He managed to analyze him, see right through him the moment he merely wished to have him by his side, and he did it under such a mental pressure. He really _is_ something and, just this once, Wakatoshi figures, he might have lost to him.

"I never thought you could say something like this." He has always seen him cry and reach out for victory. He has always wanted to advance to nationals so badly, and every time he crushed him down, he always came back up and behind him, ready for the next round. And these words hardly sound like what he is used to hear from him...

But it doesn't mean it is not the truth.

"See? Sometimes even I can mange to surprise you, Ushiwaka-chan."

Wakatoshi breathes.

Because there is a smile on the setter's face and those brown eyes are shining again. He is not regretting what they have done anymore, Wakatoshi realizes, because he is letting him stay close to him even when he wraps his arms around him. He doesn't know why he is doing it again, even though he has been pushed away so many times, but holding Tooru against his chest like this, letting him bury his face in his neck-

It is making him feel good.

"Ne, Ushiwaka-chan, it's getting late. We should leave."

"Yes."

They pull away from each other, quickly clean the mess they made and then get out of the dark room.

"I'll go grab my bag, so give me a minute," Tooru says and, without giving Wakatoshi the time to reply, makes his way to the locker room. Once he is in, he shuts the door behind him and then leans against it with his back.

 _What has he done?_

He licks his dry lips as memories from before flash through his mind. He lets out a shaky breath, blood rushes to his cheeks.

 _What now?_

He takes slow steps to reach his bag and when he opens it, he pulls out his school sweatpants and puts them on, not bothering to clean himself up - he is going to take a shower once he is home.

He sees his Aobajousai jacket right there, neatly folded (Shigeru probably did it before he left, because he remembers leaving it sprawled across the floor) and put at the bottom of his bag.

And he wants to take it out, but his eyes wander down his body, observing the purple and white uniform he is wearing for a moment. He pushes away the thought of removing it and quickly changes his shoes and closes the bag. After collecting all his belongings, he heads out.

He finds Wakatoshi waiting for him and _it is weird._

He is standing on the side of the court, staring at the net, expressionless and still like a rock.

"Ushiwaka-chan?" He approaches him slowly and then stands next to him, looking questioningly at the same spot, trying to see what he sees.

"I want to spike your toss someday, Oikawa."

Tooru's smile widens. He just can't help it. Wakatoshi is blunt as always and maybe he kind of likes that, as ridiculous as it can be. He still needs to consider his offer. Tokyo might have always been his first choice for the future, but he needs to think about it seriously. Because if he says yes, lots of things will begin from there.

"Maybe one day, Ushiwaka-chan. If you're going to be a good boy that is~" He pats him gently on the shoulder before turning and heading towards the exit.

* * *

Wakatoshi walks with him until they are forced to part ways. "Let me give you your jacket back," Tooru says, ready to remove his bag from his shoulder.

"You can keep it."

"Huh?"

"The third years are already retired at Shiratorizawa, so I will not need it anymore. You can keep it," He wants him to, but once again, he doesn't complete his sentence, and just looks at him.

Tooru nods. "I should go then..."

"Wait." Wakatoshi approaches him and looks down at him and Tooru curses those five centimeters once again. "Let me know what you decide." His voice is gentle and Tooru doesn't remember ever hearing him talk like this to someone.

He nods again. "Alright."

They stay in silence, only looking at each other for a long moment. And to both of them it seems endless.

"Would you like to come to my place?" Wakatoshi asks all of a sudden.

Tooru's eyes widen slightly, but he keeps smiling. "Maybe next time, Ushiwaka-chan." The promise of a next time hits both of them as soon as the sentence is over, but Wakatoshi doesn't comment on it and Tooru doesn't bother to correct himself, because anything else would feel too much like a lie he isn't willing to tell.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Ushiwaka-chan."

Tooru turns on his heel, slowly starting to head towards his house, and he can't wait to arrive, get in and take a hot, steaming shower. He already knows he is not going to be able to sleep tonight; too many thoughts are filling his head with every passing second. He doesn't know that it is going to be the same for Wakatoshi as well and just this once, he misses a very important detail.

* * *

Wakatoshi stands on the same spot, watching him in silence until he disappears around the corner of the street.


	2. Of Unknown Guilts

" _What's wrong, Oikawa?"_

 _It comes unexpected and it is just like he had predicted; Tooru doesn't want it to. Because it is not something he can tell him without hurting them both._

* * *

It has been a week since his meeting with Wakatoshi and there still isn't a day, a moment, when Tooru isn't thinking about it. There are three weeks left until graduation and he still hasn't made up his mind.

" _Come with me. To Tokyo."_

Wakatoshi's words constantly echo in the back of his mind, awaking every single memory of that evening, which often makes him end up bright red in the face, blood circulating in his veins more than necessary and he is forced to calm all of it down under the covers of his bed or under the warm water of the shower.

He remembers it too clearly; those words, so deep and piercing, the ever gentle touch that made him see stars, and those kisses-

" _I want you with me. I want you all to myself."_

Tooru can't even count the times he has ended up cumming all over his hand while thinking about it, and every single time, instead of giving him the pleasing satisfaction of a release, it creates a heavy burden in his chest, something he still doesn't know how to send away, and that doesn't get lighter even as the time goes by.

It keeps leaving him with a trembling body, watery eyes and an undying crave for more that just _doesn't_ go away.

Today is no different.

Ever since he woke up, he has had this strange feeling in his stomach, the kind of feeling he always has when something is about to go wrong. And there is only a certain number of things that could wrong at this time, _one_ in particular, which absolutely must be prevented.

He needs to get his shit together.

Because there is no way he is going to be able to everything with his mind in such a state; even though he feels bitterness on his tongue and in the back of his throat when he thinks about it, _about him._

 _Hajime._

They didn't manage to have a proper conversation after the tournament ended, and he misses him: he misses spending whole afternoons together, laughing while playing a stupid game, with Tooru constantly teasing him and Hajime kicking him and then kissing it better like he always does when it hurts too much.

Tooru would like that right now.

However, as strange as it might feel, he feels relieved somehow. Hajime hasn't found out about that night, and it is not in Tooru's plans to tell him. But he knows he is going to discover his secret sooner or later and it would be a lie if the setter said he isn't afraid of it, even if he doesn't see it coming yet. But the lump in his throat that comes when he imagines Hajime's pained and disgusted expression makes it hard to breathe, kicks all the air in his lungs out and doesn't allow him to get any back in.

He doesn't want to see that.

 _Ever._

He makes his way out of his room and heads downstairs to the living room, letting his body fall onto the couch after he gets a hold of the remote control and turns on the TV. He has been feeling exhausted for a while now and wouldn't mind a bit of sleep, but he knows that, if he closes his eyes, those images are going to come back.

He fights with it, but his body prevails on him for the umpteenth time and his eyes flutter close after not even ten minutes.

And it is inevitable.

" _Oikawa."_

"Fuck..." he curses under his breath, cheeks flushing red and body tensing more than it should. His hands clench into fists, his nails dig almost painfully into sweaty palms.

It is getting hot around him, and it is not just because it is spring; his blood starts to rush and he can feel every single vein being so full that he could explode any second.

He feels the familiar pressure between his legs as the memories grow neater and groans in frustration.

 _Fuck._

Tooru can't help it- if he holds back it is going to hurt (as if the damage to his body wasn't enough already). His hands relax, open palms lying on his chest for a moment before slowly sliding down. He throws his head back, bends and spreads his legs slowly, making the bulge in his pants even more visible and the friction that comes along with the tightness of his clothes more perceptible.

But it is not enough.

He bites his lip angrily; he has no choice.

He intertwines his fingers with the fabric of his sweatpants and plays with it for a couple of seconds, trying one last time to get himself together, until he can't hold himself anymore and shoves his hand in, grabbing his cock in his hand and stroking it slowly a couple of times. He moans at the contact and arches his back into his own touch.

He remembers how Wakatoshi touched him after pushing him on those mattresses, the way his hand wrapped itself around him and held him in a firm grip, making him see stars.

Patience becomes less and less with every movement of his fingers and soon enough he's moving his hand at a frantic pace. He brushes the slit with his thumb occasionally, which ends up sending a shiver down his spine every single time, making it feel _so damn good._

He is moaning louder than he is usually comfortable with when he jerks off, but this time it is just too much.

He remembers being pressed down against that pommel horse and remembers when Wakatoshi entered him so hard all the air was kicked away from his lungs and how he fucked him roughly until he turned into nothing but a screaming mess.

His grip on his cock tightens when he feels warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach, which makes him lose all control of his hips and makes him start thrusting against his own hand, now slick with his own pre cum, and the strength with which he bites on his lip makes him the bitterness of blood on the tip of his tongue.

And there he is, ready to reach his peak at any moment, the pace of his hand incredibly fast while the other one is gripping the pillow under his head so tightly his knuckles are pale.

" _You feel so good..."_

"Fuck-"

Suddenly the doorbell rings and Tooru pulls his hand away from himself abruptly with a yelp, letting out a frustrated groan at the sudden lack of contact right after and as a result, his muscles shudder uncontrollably. He takes in a few deep breaths, trying desperately to calm down his arousal as he grabs a couple of tissues from the coffee table next to him and wipes his hand with it.

He then stands up, adjusts himself and tries to look as normal as possible - as if he just wasn't about to have a mind-blowing orgasm that would leave him breathless and sprawled on the couch like goo - and walks out of the living room and towards the front door.

He opens it up, curious to see who it might be so late in the afternoon during an exam session and with his parents out of town, and as soon his view is clear, everything freezes in place. His heartbeat, so fast and irregular until just half a minute ago, stops, his breath hitches in his throat and he feels his stomach dropping.

 _Hajime._

Tooru tries desperately to collect himself: he licks his dry lips once and then plasters his usual shit-eating grin all over his face and tilts his head to the side. "Oh, Iwa-chan! What brings you here?"

Hajime raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, what brings me here? We said today's movie night; you kept bugging me about watching that damn trilogy of yours for a month."

Tooru curses mentally. He doesn't usually forget about things, especially when they are related to his Iwa-chan, but this time he completely pushed it out of his mind after everything that happened during the last couple of weeks; unconsciously, he takes a couple of steps back, but still stays at the door.

Hajime figures he must have forgotten, but doesn't budge and lets himself in, walking past his childhood friend and lowering down to take his shoes off without giving him a second glance. Tooru closes the door of the house and when he turns around, Hajime's already taking his jacket off.

Tooru forces another smile after reading emAoba Johsai/em on its back he must have been to "Sorry, Iwa-chan. It must have slipped from my mind after everything that happened since the tournament," he finally manages to get back the ability to speak, even though it is really hard to keep his voice steady. Fortunately Hajime doesn't pay it too much attention and just shrugs. "Don't worry about it," he mumbles before he heads to the living room, Tooru following close by.

The spiker sits on the couch, grabbing one of the biggest cushions and placing it under his head and then stretching his legs. The setter, on the other hand, walks to the kitchen with the intention of preparing a drink for both of them, but as he pulls out two glasses and the juice, for some reason, his head doesn't seem to cooperate with him, and makes his hands start to shake.

He barely manages to fill the first glass, but when he is about to pour the content into the second one, the bottle slips from his fingers and ends up overthrowing everything on the counter.

"Shit!"

"What are you doing?" he hears Hajime asking from the other room and he curses again. In no time, Hajime is up and behind him, an irritated frown on his face as soon as he sees the mess Tooru has made. He lets out a heavy sigh and then reaches him, taking a hold of a sponge cloth Tooru's mother holds next to the sink and dries it up.

Tooru turns around, ready to grab it and do it himself, but Hajime pushes his hands away with his free one. "Let me."

Tooru lets him.

He takes a step back, leaning on the kitchen table and watching as Hajime cleans up another one of his messes. It _really_ has always been the same, ever since they were kids. Hajime has always fixed everything he did wrong, from the simplest things like this one, to the days when he almost ended up breaking his leg from overworking himself.

" _He is too weak."_

Wakatoshi's words resound like an echo in his head and it angers him to no end. If he only knew what Hajime is like outside the court, he wouldn't be saying that; he would probably change his mind and want him instead of Tooru. He is the one who always screws up after all.

But then...

" _He will never be enough to beat me."_

It pains him to no end when he realizes he's actually considering those words. They never beat him. After six, endless years of trying and trying and _failing_. Tooru has never even caught a glimpse of the national tournament if not on the TV, but even then, it didn't last long because it always pissed him off and he ended up turning everything off and retreating to his room to sulk.

He wonders what it is like to be there.

"Oikawa."

"Huh?"

Hazel eyes widen when they spot Hajime in front of him, face a few inches away from his own and a confused, perhaps a bit worried look plastered on it.

"I said I finished cleaning up."

Tooru blinks a couple of times and then realizes the counter in front of him is clean, as if the accident with the juice never happened. Both glasses are full and Hajime's holding them in front of him. "Oh. Thanks, Iwa-chan," he smiles at him and something feels off.

Hajime would lie if he said he doesn't notice it, but he lets it go this time. Tooru must be tired, or still sulking for losing to Karasuno. It is normal – he has always been like that (even though the object of his childish tantrums has always been Shiratorizawa). At least he isn't at the gym spending time by killing himself with practice.

"Let's get back to the couch."

"Yeah."

Hajime walks in front of him and Tooru follows him. He finds that Hajime has already prepared everything: pillows, blankets and now even the drinks; and the only thing left is for them to get comfortable and press _play_ on the remote control.

Tooru sits down slowly and then raises his legs up as well, pulling the blanket up to his waist and Hajime does the same on the opposite side of the couch. There isn't much space left between them and Tooru is able to feel his warmth even if they are barely touching.

The movie starts and it doesn't take long for Hajime to get into it, eyes fixed on the screen even though it is not exactly his favorite genre, but it isn't even the usual alien crap Tooru always forces him to watch so it is okay.

On the other hand, even though he picked it, Tooru can't concentrate and enjoy it at all. Sure, he is watching, but he sees nothing, too many images flashing in front of his eyes and the sting in his chest only getting heavier and heavier. His thoughts are focused on Hajime, and then they move to his team. To his beloved team he counts, _counted so much on._

" _They do not have what it takes..."_

It is a lie. They have always done everything they could for him. They always guaranteed him their full strength.

" _But were they ever enough?"_

The words ring in his ears as if he were listening to them at this precise moment and he can't bear it anymore. He closes his eyes, making sure his body stays still so Hajime doesn't see and bites his lip.

 _No, they were never enough._

 _They most likely never will._

Even if there is the most sincere of truths in this, and even though he has always known it deep inside, Tooru still feels as if he just betrayed everything he believed in for all these years. He has always been so sure of his goals, and it only took a couple of sentences for Wakatoshi to wreck it in pieces and create a nest of doubts that contaminates everything.

His touch returns inside his head again.

And he can't bring himself to think those words were lies.

 _Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn't lie._

There are only a few things he is sure about at the moment, and that is one of them. He opens his eyes and sees Hajime in the same position of before and spots another one. _Hajime's loyalty._ That will never be faked, no matter the situation; Hajime has proven him that countless times and Tooru isn't capable of bringing himself to doubt it.

They are friends, _best friends_ , yeah. And even though people usually put a limit on the title, there is so much more between them that crossed them infinite times, something that has no name; or at least they never bothered to give it one.

Tooru remembers when they were kids and the way Hajime used to protect him from anything; he let him sleep in his bed when he found himself waking up in the middle of the night because of scary nightmares. They went to school together, always picked the same one, and Hajime made sure to let him know he never regretted it.

He remembers when they kissed for the first time.

Kitagawa Daiichi had just lost to Shiratorizawa when they were in their second year of middle school. Tooru had been crushed about it more than ever, because it was the first time he had played as the main setter of the team and lost. Needless to say, he cried since they left the gym and Hajime decided to sleep at his place to keep an eye on him, worried of what he could have done if left alone. They slept on the setter's futon that night, but still, Tooru wasn't giving any signs of calming down and Hajime didn't know what to do other than holding him as close as possible. When his sobbing became worse, Hajime shifted and pressed his lips against his in a gentle kiss and everything stopped.

When he pulled away, even though it was dark inside the room, he saw wide hazel eyes staring up at him in shock. They said no words after that, but it was fine.

Tooru slept.

The first time they had sex was after the practice match where Tooru got substituted. He was frustrated for weeks, turned hostile and grumpy towards everyone, so unlikely for him - everyone noticed; and he even managed to hurt himself for the first time. That night he almost punched Tobio and after Hajime scolded him to put some sense back into him, Tooru seemed to return to his normal self. He took him home and it happened.

Tooru remembers every single detail of it and it was one of the best nights of his life. The morning after was even better; he couldn't hold himself back from mocking the spiker when he sat up and yelped at the pain in his rear. _"Looks like Iwa-chan's butt hurts, huh?"_ he had said and had never been happier of a jab in the ribs.

And it happened again and again, _and again._

They told each other it was okay. But whenever Tooru got himself a girlfriend and attempted to maintain the relationship, they would stop. Tooru's relationships, however, almost never lasted long enough for him to sleep with the girl; they usually broke up with him after three weeks (sometimes a month), once they understood he would never neglect his role as a setter and captain to go on dates with them.

So the cycle continued and they became exclusive.

But never together.

Never more than friends.

Not because they refused to date. They just never bothered themselves to talk about it and put a name on what they are and Tooru never had the guts to bring it up.

And now he doesn't know what to do.

He let Wakatoshi force his way in.

He screwed up. He definitely screwed up.

Just _what_ is he going to do now?

"Oikawa?"

Tooru finds himself suddenly being shaken roughly and his eyes snap open; he didn't even realize he closed them again. Hajime is observing him with a confused look.

"What is it, Iwa-chan?"

"I called you three times and you didn't repluu!" Hajime is scolding him, but Tooru can tell he doesn't mean anything mean with his words; he is used to the small undertone that screams _worry_ underneath the harsh tone he usually gets. "Is that brain of yours by any chance damaged, Trashykawa?"

Tooru thanks God for the perfect chance to get himself back. He pouts and crosses his arms, instinctively pulling his legs up to his chest. "That would be yours, Iwa-chan. Oh wait, you don't even have one."

"What? You little-"

Tooru ends up with a stinging ache in his ribs after a jab that was quite painful; but felt right, because it's a sign that everything is fine between them. But how long will it last?

Hajime pulls back, but still looks at him waiting for an answer, and Tooru runs a hand through his messy hair before he takes in a deep breath. "I was just thinking, Iwa-chan."

"About what?"

Tooru feels the too familiar lump in his throat and he suddenly feels like throwing up. He is supposed to make a decision and if he doesn't choose the correct one, he could end up ruining everything he worked so hard to build for years.

"Stuff."

Hajime can't help but feel worried about that answer, because it comes naturally to worry when Tooru is so vague with his words. And he realizes this talk can't wait anymore; because it's the third time he has caught him spacing out.

He grabs the remote control from the coffee table and turns off the television - like hell he is going to be able to focus on the movie knowing the number one problem he is having right now is next to him, _in silence_ , and thinking about God knows what. He can't let that keep on going.

When the screen turns black, Tooru flinches. "Why did you do that?"; He was just starting to focus on the movie, hoping it would help him avoid the conversation that is about to take place. His eyes meet Hajime's, which are already placed on his face and even though Hajime knows nothing about it, Tooru feels judged.

He feels his blood pressure lowering, making him weak, weaker than he's ever felt.

Hajime just stares.

"Goddammit, Iwa-chan! Why are you looking at me like this?!"

He breaks.

"And only then he realizes just how loud he yelled at him, when Hajime's wide eyes are the first thing he really _sees_. Hajime doesn't reply to that question too soon. He shifts his body, changing position and moving so he is closer to Tooru. He observes his body, clutched in a small angle of the couch and it looks too much like a defensive position. Tooru's expression too, a pained grimace with glossy eyes and a fearful look.

"There's something on your mind and I can see it, Oikawa. I would be an idiot if I _didn't_ actually," he speaks in a calm tone, something Tooru isn't used to, since it happens on rare occasions. And it always makes him know it is serious.

He remembers Wakatoshi once again, inside of their storage room, and himself lying flat on his back as hot calloused fingers explored him, making him feel _so. Damn. Good._

He closes his eyes tightly, resting his arms on his knees and burying his face in them. He has never felt such shame upon himself and he just isn't able to stand Hajime's gaze. His nails dig into his palms when he clenches his hands into fists. _He can't handle this._

"Talk to me, Oikawa," Hajime begins, because he sees it. Tooru is struggling with something and it really doesn't seem like a situation to just brush off like most of his drama shit, when Hajime just wants to kick him as hard as his body allows him.

This is different, unknown.

"Even if it's stupid, just tell me."

"You'll get mad."

Hajime blinks.

How can he even think that in a moment like this?

He lays his hand on the top of his head, burying in the soft brown locks of his hair, and caresses him gently, expression soft but invisible to Tooru who is still refusing to look at him.

"I won't get mad. I promise."

Tooru knows he is telling the truth right now. If he really knew though, he would take his words back and never look at him again and on the other hand, if he doesn't talk right now, it will probably be all over anyway, their friendship that is.

He feels Hajime's warmth surrounding him when the spiker wraps his arms around his body and just waits. If it weren't for the heavy angst he's feeling, Tooru wouldn't want this feeling to ever end, but-

" _You'll get mad._ "

"Try me."

"I'm thinking about moving to Tokyo after we graduate."

The tearing pain he feels in his chest when he feels Hajime's body stiffen against him makes him want to scream, but his strength to do it is nowhere to be found. Hajime's stiffness doesn't last long though, he relaxes soon enough for his hug to return as comfortable as it has always been.

Because he thinks he understands.

"You're talking about college, huh?"

Tooru had mentioned his will to go to Tokyo a couple of times during their last year. He talked about the strong volleyball team of the university and how it could lead him to the best of opportunities in the future. His grip on him instinctively tightens. "So you _do_ plan on continuing to play."

Tooru finally pulls away and looks up.

He meets Hajime's eyes finally, _finally._

"Yeah... Why else would I go there?" his tone is slightly high-pitched and he prays Hajime will believe that this is the only reason; because it is, even if there's slightly more to it to hold it up. Or so Tooru tells himself.

Hajime pulls away from him and returns to his place, sitting properly this time, as if trying to digest the words, while Tooru continues, "I want to keep playing volleyball and that team is one of the best ones around and I _want_ to become a part of it." He then looks at Hajime intensely, observes as he lowers his head, waiting for him to reply.

Because he is waiting for an _I'll be there_ a _I'm coming with you._

None of them comes.

Hajime only nods slightly and his eyes find sudden interest in his hands as the quietest of silences dawns upon them bringing fear with it.

"What about you, Iwa-chan?" Tooru asks with wide eyes. "You never mentioned anything about it."

"I haven't made a decision yet."

Tooru's heart stops.

 _Oh._

For the first time in his life, the possibility of not having Hajime, _his Iwa-chan_ , next to him hits him. Tooru has never taken a bullet in the back, but he supposes it feels just like this. "I understand.

Hajime has been a part of his life ever since he can remember. They have spent together almost every day; the longest they ever were apart was during the two summer weeks between their first and second year of middle school, when Tooru's parents brought him with them to a trip in Korea. The first few days were fine, but then Tooru started crying about how he wanted his Iwa-chan there with him and didn't stop until they were back home."

And now they could end up taking different roads and be apart for a much more extended period of time. Tooru is not ready for that; he's never been away from him and learned to see him as his anchor. Because Hajime has always protected him and made sure he was always fine.

He can't possibly think about having to deal with the world on his own.

He remembers when his parents gave him his first volleyball; the first thing he did after laying his hands on it was to run to Hajime's house to show it to him. He kept smiling for the whole day.

Convincing Hajime to play volleyball wasn't a hard task. They were playing in the garden and Tooru was insisting for Hajime to just try spiking once because _"You'll see, Iwa-chan! It's fun!"_ Hajime accepted with a sigh, mostly for him to stop whining.

And it was love at first spike.

They joined their elementary school team. And then did the same in middle school the high school.

 _Always together._

So what if this stops from next year on?

What if Hajime decides to quit volleyball while Tooru keeps playing? Tooru doesn't want to think about it, because Hajime is just too good to quit. He has made so much progress during the last couples of years and Tooru can't be anything but glad for it.

After they lost and Hajime came to him to comfort him, Tooru felt the truth in his voice, but there was also hesitance. He never said again that they will get Wakatoshi back, not once; even though he always has until then.

Tooru's mind gets occupied with an even more frightening option, that he hopes will only ever be a meaningless thought of his twisted mind and never to become reality.

If Hajime does choose to go to another university which isn't in Tokyo, and also decides to join a volleyball team... Would that mean they'd end up playing against each other at some point? Wakatoshi and him against Hajime-

Tooru's breath hitches and panic starts to build in his chest.

A match _against_ Hajime-

 _No_ , he thinks. _Just no._

It is not going to happen.

It can't happen.

There is no way he will ever be able to pull it off...

He shakes his head to send these thoughts away, cursing mentally at his creative imagination. His eyes focus back on Hajime, who has finally found the remote control again and is plainly staring at it as if deep in thought.

"So that's why you've been acting weird before," he begins with a small smile.

Tooru still doesn't breathe.

Something is _not_ right.

"You could have talked to me if it bothered you. You know you can count on me."

Even though he is dying to reply with a sarcastic comment on the soft way the sentence came out of his mouth, Tooru refrains himself from doing so; because he can't afford it. He feels like he is standing over a bottomless cliff and the only thing separating him from falling into it is a thin layer of ice that could shatter with one wrong step.

And it is already cracked.

"I'm sorry."

Hajime shakes his head, the small smile turning into a reassuring one when he glances at Tooru. "Don't apologize... You did nothing wrong."

Tooru's eyes widen and for a moment all he sees is black.

Nothing wrong... _Nothing_ wrong.

If there has ever existed a worst timing for something to be said, Tooru wants it to happen and wants it elsewhere, far away from them.

" _I want you with me. I want you all to myself."_

There's no way of going back to fix it.

His body grows limp against the couch as he slides down and lowers his head and luckily enough, Hajime doesn't notice him because he's too focused on turning the TV back on and letting the movie run again. Tooru feels him shifting on the couch to put himself in a more comfortable position and the pain and guilt in his chest get ten times stronger when he finally starts to move towards him.

He needs this.

Hajime gives him a questioning look when he sees him close, but Tooru's look is enough to make him understand.

He turns around and raises his legs back on the couch while he grabs one of the softest cushions behind his back and puts it on his lap for Tooru to lie on it.

The setter does just that, lowering down slowly, almost hesitantly, but in the end he is comfortable against him. He feels Hajime's hands reaching for the previously discarded blanket to pull it back up and over them, especially careful when adjusting it over Tooru's body. Then his hand is on Tooru's head, gently caressing him and playing with his hair. It's always been something that calmed him down when he had moments like this, Hajime thinks, so he keeps it up without stopping.

He feels Tooru sigh against the pillow before his neck twists and he turns his head on his side to finally watch the movie he picked weeks ago on his own. Hajime's eyes linger on him for a long time before they move away to the movie without going back there again.

They only separate from each other when Hajime stands up and changes DVDs and it happens twice. And every time he returns to the couch, he sinks a bit lower and gradually, Tooru ends up from his lap higher until his head is on his chest, right under his neck and Hajime can feel the soft locks tickling his skin whenever Tooru moves.

He doesn't let him go though. His arms are firmly wrapped around his body under the blanket.

And Tooru can't feel anything else but warmth; a comfortable warmth that crawls under his skin and leaves a pleasing sensation down his spine, and he doesn't want anything else other than staying with it, in it, forever. It is the way Hajime makes him feel every time he is with him.

Hazel eyes look up and Hajime instinctively tightens his embrace, pulling the setter's body more into his even though he doesn't look back at him.

Tooru can't help but smile at that.

When the last movie ends, Hajime turns off the TV and silence dawns on them once again, but it is not tense, nor it lasts as long as it did before. Tooru breaks it only a couple of minutes later, when he realizes he doesn't want him to leave. Whatever they are, whatever will happen in the future, wherever they go... He wants this now.

"Iwa-chan?"

He watches as Hajime's eyes finally meet his and a smile appears on his face, a truly gentle, sincere one. "What is it?"

"Let's go to my room."

Hajime doesn't need to reply to that. He just sits up straight and Tooru goes along. They stand up and walk to the stairs. Hajime follows in silence and when they are in front of his room, Tooru tells him to go in while he goes to the bathroom for a second.

Hajime closes the door behind. It is not the first time this is happening and the way Tooru told him that, leaves him free of any kind of embarrassment because he knows it will happen. He knew it would ever since Tooru asked him to come to his place weeks ago.

His eyes move around his room; the same place as always.

His eyes lower down on his desk and widen slightly when he notices a small piece of paper on it, right in front of his computer and with Tooru's mobile phone right next to it. He lowers down, sitting on the cushion and focusing. When close to it, his eyes spot a phone number he doesn't recognize.

He sits there, staring at it for a long moment, until the door of the room opens and Tooru comes in cheerfully. "Here I am, Iwa-"

He freezes. Hazel eyes go wide when Hajime turns around, the piece of paper now in his hand.

"Is this from one of your fangirls'?" he asks curiously.

For some reason, Tooru doesn't react like he usually does at the question: he doesn't brag and act all smug, and instead blushes heavily and reaches Hajime, lowering to take it away from his hand. "No! No, it's nobody's. Really," is the frantic response coming from him before he turns around and walks to his closet, hiding it between his clothes. His eyes spot the Shiratorizawa jacket, hanging next to his school's one and he shuts it immediately.

He turns around, back against the closet door, face flushed and all the sense of guilt from before right on his heart.

He watches as Hajime stands up slowly.

When he starts walking towards him, Tooru's body stiffens.

"What's wrong, Oikawa?"

It comes unexpected and it is just like he had predicted; Tooru doesn't want it to. Because it's not something he can tell him without hurting them both.

Because everything is wrong.

He did something wrong.

And he is going to pay the price for it, sooner or later.

Sooner or _later._

They have all the time in the world to get into a fight and Tooru has no strength at all to withhold it now.

So he just smiles - and it is the most painful smile he's ever made, because he is aware of how fake and hurtful it is for him and for Hajime - and pretends he didn't have sex with Wakatoshi.

He pretends he didn't like the way he was kissed. He pretends he doesn't have his jacket in his closet, which he is keeping because Wakatoshi told him he _wants_ him to keep it. He pretends that phone number isn't his.

He pretends he never thought about calling him during the last week.

"Nothing's wrong, Iwa-chan. Why would it be?"

He finally walks to Hajime, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing his chest against his.

"Oikawa-"

"Kiss me, Iwa-chan." The words are a mere whisper, spoken when Tooru gets closer and their lips are only a breath away from each other.

Hajime looks at him, the small height difference seems almost invisible right now, and the way Tooru is in front of him, cheeks of a light pink color, eyes half-lidded. He doesn't care about what's in that damn closet right now. He doesn't want to know, even if it is a dead body.

It doesn't matter.

He kisses him.

He feels Tooru's hands slowly moving moving from behind his neck to his shoulder, sliding up across his jaw and into his spiky dark hair as he kisses him back. It starts off hurriedly, but Tooru regains control over all his desires and ends up slowing the pace.

Hajime hums when Tooru's tongue enters his mouth and places his hand on his hip, gently pulling him even closer while the other one slides up his shirt, feeling the hardened muscles of his stomach.

They pull away to breathe after a while. "Get on the futon, Iwa-chan."

And Hajime finds himself obeying; he pulls away from Tooru only to get down to sit on the soft mattress of Tooru's bed. He doesn't even have the time to get himself comfortable, because Tooru is already over him, sitting in his lap and grinding hard against him. His mouth moves to explore very part of Hajime's exposed skin until he stops at his earlobe, nibbling and sucking gently on it, making Hajime let out a shaky breath at the feeling.

His hands grasp harder on Tooru's hips, pulling him down at an angle that makes them both hiss when their crotches touch. Tooru's already hard, Hajime notices, and at this rate it won't take long for him to get like this as well.

He decides not to lose any time: he grabs the fabric of Tooru's shirt and starts pulling it up and when Tooru breaks away to slide it off his head and arms, he removes it and throws it on the floor next to him before pulling him back against himself and biting his neck.

Tooru keens high in his throat, back arching at the pleasuring painful feeling, which becomes even more intense when Hajime starts sucking on the spot, hard enough to leave a mark before he pulls away and looks up at Tooru.

"Your shirt, Iwa-chan..."

Hajime gets it and proceeds to take it off as well, discarding it then on top of Tooru's. He is about to turn back around, but Tooru pushes him down.

He looks up, the view of Tooru's half naked body makeing it even harder to breathe. He watches as he moves his hips over him in slow, sensual movements, making Hajime unable to keep his gasps in his mouth.

He is about to sit back up, but Tooru pushes against him, making sure to keep him in place, holding his back flush against the mattress.

Tooru lowers down so he is lying on Hajime's chest but still keeps moving his hips. His lips find Hajime's shoulder, placing soft kisses and gentle nibbles here and there, before he moves on his collarbone and it is then that he bites hard enough for Hajime to yelp. His hands instinctively grab Tooru's hips.

Tooru smirks at his reaction and moves back to his face, parting the spiker's lips with his tongue before kissing him again, more passionately now.

The room is getting hotter and the need to get the rest of their clothes off is even bigger. Hajime's hands move down over Tooru's thighs, gripping at the fabric of his sweatpants along the way.

"My, my... So impatient," comes Tooru's teasing comment as he sits back up again and Hajime tries to follow him one last time, but is denied. "Let me take care of you, Iwa-chan."

"But-"

"Just relax."

Hajime loses all his will to complain when Tooru gives another roll of his hips against him.

When he is sure Hajime is relaxed, Tooru lowers over his chest, mouth running all over his skin as his hand slides down into his pants to palm his erection. Hajime groans at the contact, hips jolting to meet his touch but when he regains some of his sense, he uses it to control himself when Tooru adds more pressure.

Tooru works his way on his chest, tongue running over a hard nipple a couple of times before he takes it in his mouth and sucks on it. Hajime lets out a grunt, but doesn't complain.

When he has enough, he slides over Hajime's legs so he is facing his crotch. He glances one last moment at Hajime, who is now supporting himself on his elbows and observing his every move and Tooru can't resist to lick his lips slowly and showily before tugging on the waistband of his pants before pulling them down along with his briefs, revealing his already hard cock.

He grips the length with his hand, pumping on it slowly a couple of times and enjoying Hajime's whimpers. He then reaches it and places a gentle kiss on the head, tongue flickering against the slit.

O-oikawa!"

Taking it as an encouragement to continue, Tooru finally takes him in his mouth. Hajime groans at the warm feeling around him and it takes everything he has and doesn't have to prevent himself from thrusting up and fucking that hot cave until he comes.

But Tooru told him to relax and he is going to listen.

He feels his tongue moving on the under side of his length as he moves his head up and down until Hajime feels himself hitting the back of his throat. Tooru doesn't gag on it, having learned from the first time where he ended up coughing and Hajime ended up telling him he was an idiot for having taken it so rashly.

No, this time Tooru is doing great. He breathes through his nose as keeps moving, milk chocolate eyes never leaving Hajime's. He moves his hand in rhythm with his head, covering the parts his mouth doesn't and Hajime moans. Even though Tooru tries to steady him, his hips still thrust up to meet him with small thrusts as he keeps going.

"Oh, God... Oikawa-"

Tooru hums in appreciation before pulling away, some of Hajime's pre cum and his own saliva spilling out of his mouth and down his chin. He doesn't stop moving his hand though, twisting his wrist every now and then and thumbing the head of his cock whenever he wants a reaction; needless to say, he wants one quite often.

Hajime watches as he moves his mouth over his stomach, leaving light red marks on his skin with his teeth, and he isn't sure they will all go away by the next morning.

He moves his eyes on Tooru's body and realizes he's still wearing his pants, while he is completely naked. He wants more of him, wants to fuck him already because he is so hard it hurts. And Tooru's constant teasing isn't making it any better.

He loses his breath when Tooru is taking him in his mouth again, this time gradually, tongue moving over every inch of him as if trying to imprint every detail of him.

And Tooru can't deny he likes the way he feels, so hot and thick he would suck him off until he comes, but it is not a part of his plan, no matter how good it would feel to swallow it all. His own sweatpants are starting to get uncomfortably tight and he's not going to resist much longer from touching himself.

He pulls away one final time and feels Hajime sitting up and wrapping his arms around him to pull him on the same level as him and then kissing him messily. Tooru moans into the kiss, pressing his tongue against his..

When they pull away, Tooru sighs against his lips. "You taste so good, Iwa-chan."

"Shut up and take off your pants."

"Really impatient."

But he complies. He pulls away from him and stands up, taking the fabric of his pants and briefs and sliding them down his legs before kicking them on his side. And then he is back on Hajime's lap, his legs on each of his sides, their cocks finally brushing together and the new friction making them both moan.

Tooru puts two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them languidly and swirling his tongue around them, coating them with as much of his saliva as he can, while with his other hand he pushes Hajime down, so he is lying on his back again.

"Oikawa, let me-"

Tooru pulls away from his fingers with an exaggerated pop and shakes his head. "Nope, Iwa-chan. I told you to relax."

And then Tooru grants him the hottest of sights, as his hips rise from Hajime's slightly, and his hand disappears behind his back.

Hajime swallows everything he has in his mouth, too afraid to drool, and observes Tooru's expression, which turns from a seductive, smiling one to a suddenly gasping one when the first of his digits penetrates into his hole. His body grows tense at his own touch, and Hajime doesn't fail to notice it, especially because Tooru seems to be rushing, having his finger pushed into himself beyond his second knuckle already. He lays his hands on his hips, moving them in small circles against him and speaks, voice incredibly soft for him: "Take it easy, Oikawa."

Tooru whines, forcing in a second finger. "But I want you - ah! - inside me- ngh!" He loses himself in his own moans, cock pulsing as he grinds more against his own hand, pushing his fingers as deep as the shape of his body allows him. His head falls back, mouth gaping open when he curls them and stretches himself even wider.

Hajime must admit he has never even imagined such a gorgeous sight existed; Tooru usually lets him do most of the work and has never bothered to prepare himself on his own, so to Hajime, despite the number of times they have done this, this is something new.

His eyes linger on Tooru's chest as it stretches back along with the movements of his hand, muscles tensing with every move of his hips. His face looks beautiful even like this, with half-lidded eyes, lips shiny and parted as he moans his name quietly.

Suddenly Hajime's hand is around his cock, stroking slowly and when Tooru looks down, he sees the way Hajime's looking at him. "Iwa-chan?"

"Don't hurt yourself."

Tooru gives him a small smile in return. "I won't. It just feels so good..."

When he feels ready, he slowly leans over Hajime, reaching with his hand to one of the closest drawers where he holds lube and condoms and picks up the small bottle, which he immediately opens up and pours some of its content on his hand.

"Condom, Oikawa. Shouldn't you-"

"I want all of you inside."

The spiker doesn't say anything and lets out a soft moan when Tooru grabs his length in his hand and strokes it slowly until it's slick enough. Then he gets a better hold over him and lowers down slowly, positioning him at his entrance. He takes in a deep breath and then starts taking him in.

Hajime throws his head back as a groan rips from his throat, and his hands dig into the soft flesh of Tooru's hips, trying desperately to hold himself back from moving.

Tooru lowers even more, careful to adjust on the feeling with every inch he is taking inside. They usually don't do it in this position, and Tooru finds himself wondering why: Hajime feels impossibly bigger like this and Tooru feels him reaching even deeper than normally.

He moans loudly, working himself further on his cock, until he is finally settled onto it. Then he leans back, leaning on his hands on the mattress next to Hajime's thighs, steadying himself before slowly starting to move. He feels the hard length brush against his prostate and can't help himself from getting louder.

Hajime grunts under him, his grip on the setter tightening considerably as the muscles in his legs quiver at the jolts of pleasure Tooru's tightness makes run down his spine. He decides he won't wait anymore and starts thrusting upwards, following Tooru's rhythm and meeting him halfway and the sound Tooru makes are definitely an approval.

They keep moving like this for a while, gradually increasing speed until Tooru shifts, leaning forward and making his hands rest on his chest. He closes his eyes, moaning his lungs out at the feeling. His mind goes blank. It feels so good he can't even describe it. It always does.

Only Hajime is able to make him feel like this, warm inside and like he is the only thing that matters.

" _Oikawa."_

Tooru's eyes snap open.

 _No._

Why is _he_ here? Why is he in the back of his mind, looking at him with those eyes.

" _I want you with me. I want you all to myself."_

He doesn't know why, but for a moment, just for a moment, he remembers the inside of that storage room. And the memory along is enough to make him grow painfully harder, his breath hitching in his throat as he stops moving.

"Oikawa?" he hears Hajime's raspy voice calling him and he shakes his head, biting his lips and forcing his body to move again. He moves harder this time and the constant brushing over his prostate makes his eyes roll back into his head as he feels himself closer to his release.

"Iwa-chan... Ah- More! I need more."

" _You feel so good..."_

"Please..."

Hajime's eyes widen. He wraps his arms around him, pulling him down so he's lying on his chest and kisses him messily. He spreads his legs, bends his knees and plants his feet firmly into the mattress and his hips begin to move fast to ram into Tooru from underneath.

Tooru gets louder, and it is so hard for him to keep his eyes open, but he forces himself. To make sure Hajime is the one who is with him. Hajime and _no one else._

Hajime's thrusts get even more erratic and Tooru's need to be filled increases as the familiar feeling of his upcoming orgasm starts to grow inside the lower part of his stomach and tingles around his spine.

"Iwa-chan..."

His words are a mere whisper as he moves his head in front of Hajime's and places an open mouthed kiss, taking every bit of air he has not in his lungs before he falls back to his side, dropping over Hajime's shoulder.

It takes only a couple more trusts for him to fall over the edge and he comes with a loud moan, back arching and cum spilling all over their chests. His inner muscles spasm uncontrollably and Hajime groans at the feeling as he fucks him through his orgasm. He feels Tooru growing limp against himself, his lips kissing his shoulder gently, without any strength left.

"Cum, Iwa-chan."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Hajime groans and gives one last thrust before burying himself in the tight heat of Tooru's body and comes. His cum comes out in thick spurts and Tooru can feel every single drop filling him up.

By the time it's over, they are both a panting mess, pressed against each other. Tooru eventually regains his breath and raises his hips so Hajime's out of him and lets himself fall on the mattress. He takes in deep breaths and after that, he rolls so he's lying on his side, facing Hajime.

He sees his spiker still lying flat on his back, chest raising and falling heavily and Tooru waits. He waits until Hajime's relaxed, not breathless, to reach him and lay his head on his shoulder and wrap his arm around him. Hajime does the same, sliding it underneath his body and pulling him as close as possible.

Tooru buries his face in his hot skin, exhaling heavily.

He has missed this.

Hajime shifts slightly and Tooru struggles, trying to hold him still as much as the leftover of his strength allows him.

"Let me grab some tissues."

"Don't need them."

"You're going to get the sheets dirty."

"I'll wash them."

"Your mother will wash them."

" _Just stay here."_

Hajime complies hesitantly and readjusts himself against the setter's body. Tooru doesn't let him see his face, and he figures he might be tired for today, so he will let him rest.

He sighs and moves his eyes towards the ceiling; Tooru has never removed the glowing stars he put up there when he was a kid, and a part of Hajime is glad he didn't, because he likes them too - but he will never admit it out loud otherwise he will never hear the end of it.

And so he remains completely oblivious to the mess in Tooru's mind though.

Tooru doesn't want this moment to end. He doesn't want to stand up from this bed to dress up or whatever, wants to stay wrapped against him forever. Only here he feels comfortable and safe from everything waiting for him in the outside world.

" _Oikawa."_

If Hajime only knew how he feels.

If only he himself knew how he feels.

The possibility of their separation still doesn't seem true, doesn't seem real.

"Are you even considering coming with me to Tokyo, Iwa-chan?" Tooru's aware of the danger of his question and he is also aware of the danger of every possible answer Hajime could give him. Because lots of those possibilities begin with a _no._

But if he isn't there with him and Wakatoshi is, what is going to happen? The fact that he doesn't see his thoughts and decisions about him and a clear rejection is the thing that scares him the most.

If Hajime isn't there to control him, what is he going to do?

If Hajime isn't there for him to love more than anyone else, is he going to fall for the man he thought he hated for six years of his life?

A place, a period of time, with him by his side- He can't possibly imagine that and maybe it's some kind of sign from the universe to reassure him.

"I... I really don't know, Oikawa."

Tooru's heart breaks. His mind is screaming at him to get on his knees and beg him until he says yes; he doesn't want Hajime to leave him, he doesn't want to be on his own. But he also doesn't have any grounds to ask him that, because apparently there's nothing more than friendship between them and he doesn't have the right to ruin Hajime's life for his own selfish desires.

So a part of him tells him to fight tooth and nail, but for a goddamn reason he can't explain another one is just telling him not to - because that part of him doesn't want him along - and it is the small piece of him that's always had _something_ for Wakatoshi, the one he managed to corrupt with the tiny bit of warmth he offered.

Tooru doesn't even dare to think about what a second taste could do to him.

"I understand, Iwa-chan," he whispers tiredly against his skin.

Hajime glances at him.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

 _No._

"Yeah..." _What a lie_ , he thinks. The biggest one he has ever told. "Yeah, just a bit tired."

He feels Hajime's hand burying itself in his hair and even though he has had the best feelings with him until now, he feels like crying.

Hajime isn't stupid. He knows he is.

"Liar."

Tooru gives out a shaky laugh, his hand taking a hold of the one Hajime's resting on his chest. "Don't let me go, Iwa-chan."

"I won't."

Tooru closes his eyes, tiredness overwhelming him and crushing all his defenses at once. But he expects it; Hajime's words have their own effect on him. He doesn't feel sincerity in them, but the heaviest insecurities he never wants to hear again.

But for tonight, and the nights after this... All the way until he finds out about what he did, he will pretend everything is alright.


	3. 10 Numbers on a Piece of Paper

_When he knows he is out of Wakatoshi's sight, he lets his perfectly put facade fall._

 _The walk home seems to take an eternal amount of time, and every single second is occupied by the thoughts of what just happened between him and his biggest rival; the one he tried so hard to win against for six years of his life but to no avail._

 _It amazes him how easily he fell for the spiker's words, his touch... His kisses were like no one else's, so warm and yet strong and dominant enough to push him on his knees and let him do whatever he pleased. His body seemed to repel every command his brain was desperately trying to give it to get away and instead submitted itself to the_ oh so pleasing _ministrations those hands kept giving him._

His head hurts all of a sudden, too overwhelmed by everything that has been happening to him ever since he lost the tournament. He feels as if everything is slipping away from his grasp and from the way it looks, there is nothing he can do about it.

 _Once he arrives home, he heads upstairs to the bathroom. He approaches the sink, turns on the cold water and just splashes his face with it until he needs to breathe. It always helps him to think clearly, as if water had the power to put in order the mess in his head for a short while - because the confusion_ always _returns eventually._

 _He breathes deeply and finally raises his head to look at his reflection in the giant mirror in front of him._

 _Only then does he realize how tired his face actually looks. His eyes have an unfocused look, the bags under his eyes are starting to show and he is unusually pale. He observes lower, notices the light pink marks on his exposed neck which fortunately look like they are going to disappear by the next morning._

 _He was_ that _gentle..._

 _And then his heart stops._

 _The jacket he is wearing._

 _A Shiratorizawa jacket._

No.

Wakatoshi _'s jacket._

 _His body looks so weird swaddled in it - it is not bad, he thinks... Just plain_ weird _, unfamiliar; and the comfortable warmth it is giving is making it hard for him to think._

 _His mind pictures the moment Wkatoshi put it around his shoulders; the way he tried to push it off himself because he learned to hate those colors so long ago, but he eventually slid his arms in the long sleeves and in the end, when he finally had the opportunity to remove it in the locker rooms, he kept it on._

 _Why did he keep it on?_

 _He looks down, hoping the image in the mirror is something unreal, some sort of joke, but no: he is wearing it._

 _It has a nice smell, he notices. It smells fresh, clean..._

 _He exhales; he mustn't think about it. Not right now._

 _He needs to shower._

 _Yeah._

 _He really,_ really _needs to shower._

 _With the thought in his head, he gets to his bedroom, removes the purple and white cloth and throws it in his wardrobe, almost afraid somebody could see it in his possession - and if he were able to reason, he would understand it is not needed because he is going to be home alone until his parents return from their trip. But the paranoia is a hard thing to look over._

 _He pulls out a light blue shirt, a black pair of sweatpants and briefs as well. Then, he returns to the bathroom, strips of the rest of his clothes and throws them in the chest of the dirty laundry. Once naked, he looks at himself again._

 _His skin doesn't have the usual flawless look. The light marks on his neck and shoulders may disappear by tomorrow, but the purplish ones on his hips are going to take a couple of days for sure. As gentle as Wakatoshi might have treated him, he still held him in a vice grip when he fucked him._

 _His eyes go lower on his legs, watching the now crusted cum on the inner side of his thighs. It feels quite uncomfortable now - he should have cleaned himself in the locker room earlier._

 _Before his mind starts to remember other details, he shakes his head and turns towards the shower. He steps in and makes himself comfortable before turning on the water. He hisses when it comes out cold, but it only takes a couple of seconds before it turns hot, steaming._

 _He sighs when his tense muscles finally relax, his back straightens and he throws his head back, hands moving to his neck and chest to clean himself slowly. He has nothing left to do for today - sure, he should be studying, but he doubts he will be able to do anything at this rate, so he can take his time._

 _He proceeds to wash away all the sweat from practice and leaves his inner thighs for last. He moves his hands over the sensitive skin gently, wiping away all the stains of cum until there's none anymore._

 _After half an hour he is ready to get out, but as soon as he turns off the water and turns to step out, he feels a searing pain coming from his lower back and curses loudly. It seems like_ this _is going to last for a couple of days too._

 _He manages to get out in the end, grimacing at every step in the beginning, but it soon becomes kind of tolerable and his focus on it loses when he dries himself up and puts on his clothes. He rubs the towel over his head to wipe his damp hair and then cleans behind himself._

 _When he straightens up for the last time, his stomach growls._

 _He heads downstairs and into the kitchen with the plan to prepare himself a nice dinner, because a sandwich isn't going to cover his hunger. So he cooks some rice, miso soup and in the end decides to grill a fish as well. Nothing too complicated, but he prepares a lot of it._

 _His mind is still foggy and the heavy feeling on his chest is put aside now that he is concentrating on his food. He is not a brilliant cook, he once admitted it openly because "everybody who's amazing like me must have a flaw", but he learned to make it better. It is perfectly edible, it just isn't elaborated or complicated to prepare._

 _When it is ready, he sets it on the table and tries to sit down slowly, hopeful not to feel too much pain. It doesn't really work too well, but he does make himself comfortable as much as he can._

 _He can't shake the weird feeling in his chest in any way, because it's quiet. Too quiet for what he is used to. His family isn't home often, but when they are all together, they sure make quite a lot of noise when they eat. He spends all his time chatting with them to make dinner more pleasing, but now he is alone with his thoughts and he is on the verge of freaking out._

 _He eats faster than he would like, making himself unable to enjoy anything of what he prepared, but he needs to finish this quickly and find something else to occupy his mind, so once his stomach is full and the table is clean again, he returns to his bedroom, closes the door behind and turns on the light. He walks over to his desk and sits on the cushion in front of his computer. He looks online for his favorite film and sets it to load while he prepares his futon._

 _He adjusts his pillow and covers, wanting to be in the most comfortable of positions to ease his aching lower back, but as he's adjusting everything, his mind keeps being focused on that one spot inside his wardrobe where the jacket is lying._

 _And it keeps getting more intense until he can't hold it in anymore and stands up abruptly. He walks to the closet, opens it and pulls it out. He then returns to his computer, cloth in hand, and notices the video is already loaded, so he starts it and then makes himself comfortable, laying the uniform on his lap. His eyes are glued on it, attracted to it, and his hands seem not to be able to stay away._

 _So he touches it, exploring every part, every detail of it._

 _Suddenly he hears a crumpling noise coming from one of the front pockets._

 _He raises an eyebrow, the hand slips in and when it is pulled out, it holds a small, neatly folded piece of paper. The jacket is soon forgotten next to him while he examines it for a minute before he finally opens it. He flinches when he sees there is a number written on it._

 _Even Wakatoshi must have his own fan club, being a national champion and captain of one of the strongest high school teams in the country. But then he thinks about it: something isn't right. It doesn't really look like a girl's handwriting - besides, Tooru can't even imagine a girl trying to approach someone like him to give him her number - and sure, it is written neatly, nicely, but definitely not by a girl._

 _It could be a boy maybe? Probably not._

 _But he thinks he has seen this number somewhere. The last part looks kind of familiar._

 _Then-_

Wait.

 _It finally dawns upon him._

 _It is_ his _number_

 _He saw him writing it and giving it to him when they were in middle school. Useless to mention, he threw it away as soon as the spiker left - it wasn't really wise to give it to him right after they beat him. Sure, Tooru was immensely happy because of the Best Setter Award, but he still lost to him._

 _He remembers staring at it for a long time and, having a good memory like his is enough to recognize it from just a hint._

 _It is definitely his._

 _As soon as he digests the realization of what is in front of him, in his hands, anger starts to boil inside of him. Because Wakatoshi_ knew. _He knew something would happen between them and that he would be ending up taking his jacket, so that is why he put his number in there._

 _The bastard had it all planned out._

 _Tooru feels pathetic; Wakatoshi must think he is so predictable. He hates to admit it at this point, but he really is._

 _And Wakatoshi exploited it to the fullest._

 _The reaction is immediate, he stands up, walks angrily to the trash bin next to his desk and just throws that damn piece of paper away. After that, he returns to the comfortable bed he prepared himself and focuses on his movie. There is no way he's going to give him the satisfaction of a call._

 _He isn't that predictable._

.

 _But still..._

 _Calling him to scream his lungs out at him would feel really nice. He could let out grudges he kept holding in for six years, he could vent and empty himself so he can just move on. But move where?_

 _His eyes leave the screen of his computer after not even half an hour of looking but not seeing and land on that trash can._

 _He shouldn't be thinking about it._

 _He really shouldn't._

.

Dammit.

 _He stands up and picks up the paper._

* * *

He doesn't know why he is holding it in his hand a week after, but his eyes seem not to be able to look away from him and keep scanning the same numerical sequence over and over.

Hajime left after lunch; he said he needed to study for Wednesday's exam, their last one, and again, he should be studying as well, but he just can't. His head feels like it is burning, especially after what happened last night with his spiker.

The latter was kind enough not to mention his behavior and Tooru has been much better at keeping his cool today. Truth to be told though, he feels like shit. Last night was just... It felt _wrong._

Even what he did with Wakatoshi was wrong, but he is keeping it away from his best friend and last night, when he was about to find out... He hates to think about it, but sex (even though both of them really needed it) felt almost like a distraction from what is hiding inside that wardrobe of his.

It bothers him.

It is not like it should be.

Tooru has always told Hajime everything because he has always been sure that, whatever the mess he makes, he would always help him clean it up and would be with him no matter how deep the shit he would get himself into. Because he is loyal to him, and that is something Tooru has grown addicted to to the point he can't even stand the idea of being without it – not even for a moment.

That is why he has been fine for all this time, even though there were so many things bothering him and rooting against him.

His number one support has always been there.

No matter what he does or tells him.

For the first time, though, he wronged in a field he can't bring in front of Hajime. The should have always been like this - always together. And now Tooru is about to break the only promise he ever cared about and he can't even talk about it to him, to the one whom he always told everything and who always listened.

Just what kind of face would Hajime make if he told him he allowed Wakatoshi to fuck him inside of Seijō's storage room, right next to the gym where they wasted blood, sweat and tears to practice and improve? How would he react if he told him how fucking _good_ it felt?

Tooru hates that it felt so good.

It should have been horrible; it should have been painful and rough and-

It shouldn't have happened.

And yet, he let it happen.

There has never been more than friendship between him and Hajime - nothing that had an official name different than friendship with eventual benefits. _Lots_ of eventual benefits.

Hajime let Tooru date all the girls he wanted, and there was a period when Hajime was seeing this girl, who was really cute and nice (Tooru hated her) but broke up with him after about three months later because apparently he was spending too much time looking after his best friend, rather than spending it with her.

Hajime didn't bother to promise her to change; because he told Tooru too many times that it is his job to look after him, otherwise he would probably be collapsed from overworking himself and all the stupid shit he does when his thoughts become too funny for him to handle.

Hajime comforted him when they lost against Wakatoshi and it was Tooru's job to comfort Hajime when they lost to Karasuno. It really crushed him, Tooru remembers.

For the first time he saw Hajime taking all the blame on himself because of that last spike Karasuno's number five managed to receive that lead them to victory. He had never seen him so conflicted. It reversed the roles in no time and Tooru was the one to go to his place to spend the night telling him it was going to be okay.

" _But you wanted to go against him one last time,"_ he sobbed when Tooru held him in the tightest of embraces. _"Because of me you lost that chance."_

Tooru bites his lip; there is just no position on his futon comfortable enough to put him to sleep.

He is exhausted; he didn't sleep well last night and, even though he tried to take a nap in the afternoon, he just couldn't. He event went out for a run, like he has been doing for the past five years of his life, but this week is taking longer routes, going faster and pushing his limits to the very end. He even starts to feel his knee again, but it is nothing uncomfortable to the point to be considered painful. He knows it isn't healthy, but it is something of a distraction, no matter how brief it is.

His mind being complicated as it is still manages to find the time to struggle with the thoughts of the two people he displayed his whole life around. And it always happens in the evening, when he is alone in his bed and there is nothing that can make it go away.

The need to talk about that storage room is burning him, consuming every bit of energy in his body and leaving him destroyed.

The question in his head was created spontaneously the first time he started thinking about Hajime. If they are truly just best friends and can sleep with whomever they want, _why does he feel like this?_ Why does he feel like a cheating piece of shit when there are no boundaries which could justify it?

He feels something wet against his cheek and raises his hand up to see what it is and is surprised to find tears coming out of his eyes. He blinks a couple of times and then wipes away whatever is left until his face completely dry.

He curses mentally for letting Wakatoshi do this to him.

But then, as much as he hates to admit it, he isn't to blame. He always knew that; _because it is his own fault._

It takes two people to do what they did the way they did it and Tooru was the one who made it possible.

Wakatoshi might have been persistent in the beginning - he pinned him against the wall, kissed him, touched him; slid his leg between Tooru's and pressed against his crotch until he was moaning and arching his back for more.

But he gave him a way out.

Tooru remembers it clearly.

It was himself who sealed what happened next with that kiss after he clung to him so desperately and offered himself on a silver platter for him to use as he pleased.

Wakatoshi gave him a way out and he decided not to take it.

It is his own fault.

He fell for him even after what they told each other after Aobajōsai's last match in the Spring High tournament.

 _Most of his team is already leaving; and Tooru knows they have nothing to do here anymore now that they lost. The thought is heavy in his mind, the very word to voice it feels bitter against his tongue and angry tears are threatening to come out which he desperately tries to hold in until he's at home, in the emptiness and silence of his room._

* * *

" _Oikawa! There are still some guys left in the locker rooms. Go and call them! The bus is about to arrive!"_

" _Yes, coach!" he yells without thinking, pushes everything on his mind aside, and heads back. His teammates are probably crying somewhere and as their captain, it is his duty to comfort them and tell them it is going to be alright._

 _Crumbling down right now is not an option. It can't be an option when Hajime is like that. Tooru doesn't remember ever seeing him crying so much after a match, the blame of that last spike he put on himself makes him look weaker than he is._

 _Tooru decides he will stay with him tonight to take care of it._

 _Right now he needs to find the others. The giant hall is almost empty and he stops when he sees one of the first years walking towards him._

" _If the bus comes, can you help load the luggage? I'm going to get the guys that haven't come yet."_

 _The boy straightens up and nods, and then walks outside with a hurried step. Tooru waves his hand and tells him he is going to be right back._

 _And when he turns around, everything seems to freeze in place._

 _Ushijima Wakatoshi is striding his way, posture straight and expression firm and strict as always._

 _Tooru glares at him, holds his head high as if that loss didn't ever taken place. He really doesn't want to speak to him right now, so he decides to walk past him and pretend he didn't notice him. He aims to do just that, lets out his breath when he is already steps away from him._

" _A piece of advice, Oikawa."_

 _Tooru's shoulders stiffen._

Shit.

" _Don't keep walking the side roads."_

 _Tooru stops in his tracks, muscles tense and ears ready to listen even though he doesn't want to. But Wakatoshi always makes him react like this, pisses him off until he snaps._

" _The path you chose was_ wrong _. There was another place that would have brought out your strength more... And you didn't choose it because of that insignificant pride of yours."_

 _Tooru swallows._ That bastard...

" _So you're saying that if I had picked Shiratorizawa over Seijō, then everything would've been okay? Come on! There's no such a thing as a team that always has guaranteed victory," Tooru says and means it. Everyone wins, everyone loses._

 _This is how it goes. It doesn't necessarily have to be fair, but life's never been fair to anyone all the time. Even a thick head like Wakatoshi should get at least that much._

" _Right now, at least," Wakatoshi begins and Tooru turns around, because he can't be about to say it. "Isn't the place I'm at the strongest?"_

 _Tooru's eyes widen; and then realization dawns upon him._

 _Apparently not._

 _He clicks with his tongue. "You're still the same. You're confident to the point where it's ridiculous." He watches as Wakatoshi gives him a questioning look and can't help but laugh at him. ";Insignificant pride, huh? Well well, aren't you wrong..."_

 _Tooru's body is now fully turned around towards the spiker and he dares a step forward. "Listen, Ushijima," he needs to make things clear between them. "I have never once thought that I made the wrong choice." He observes as something sparks in Wakatoshi's eyes as he longingly looks at him. "My volleyball career is far from over."_

 _He is going to go to Tokyo._

 _He will meet that ace from Fukurodani and it's going to be better. He will get him back._

" _This insignificant pride of mine..._ You better remember it."

 _There is a moment of silence between them, an uncomfortable one until Tooru gets on with it and shatters it. "If you keep only focusing on me, you'll be surpassed one day. When you least expect it."_

" _What to you mean?"_

 _Tooru can't hold back a grimace, but it lasts for a split second. He doesn't want to say it. He really doesn't, but as long as it's able to throw Wakatoshi off his feet, it's okay. Just this once. "My kouhai... He's not smart at all; not to mention he's no match for me."_

 _He doesn't know why but he finds himself smiling._

" _However, he's not alone now and he's really strong." He sees Wakatoshi's glare and he has never been more glad to see him like this. "Together, even a pack of crows can kill an enormous white eagle."_

 _With that, he turns around and starts to walk away._

" _Oikawa-"_

" _Bye bye, Ushiwaka-chan."_

 _He doesn't add anything else; he doesn't listen when Wakatoshi tries to call out to him one more time. He is so done with it; he doesn't want to see him until they are on opposite courts next year. Words are useless against him, because their minds are on completely different levels._

 _Talking to Wakatoshi would be like screaming out a language he doesn't know exists and Tooru would end up even more pissed off than he already is._

No more talking, _he decides._

* * *

His predictions didn't come true. At least Wakatoshi seemed to look at Karasuno as if they weren't total shit. They might have lost, but they still were a pain to beat.

But it is not what he wants to think about.

Right now, talking to Wakatoshi seems like the only available solution for him.

Hajime is out of question and the others are probably going to judge him until he punches them and, in the end, he won't manage to obtain the solace he is so desperately looking for. Because only the two of them know what happened and if he doesn't let it out soon enough, he is going to explode and he can't afford a panic attack right now. It wouldn't be the first time, but it is not the time nor the place for it.

Before he knows it, his hand has already retrieved the phone between the messy covers he tried to lie underneath but ended up throwing all around his futon. His finger taps the digits slowly and, may his mind be cursed, he is memorizing it, sculpting it in his mind as an indelible relic.

He is calling.

It is not like he is going to get an answer.

Wakatoshi definitely isn't going to answer.

"Hello?"

Tooru's eyes widen, his mouth gapes open and his heart instantly stops. He hoped until the last second that the number was supposed to be a kind of prank, but then- _fuck_. It's Ushijima Wakatoshi; he probably doesn't even know what a prank is.

"Shit..."

"Oikawa?"

Tooru starts to panic. What is he doing? Just how the hell did he even get to the idea of calling him and-

He pulls the phone away from his ear as if it were burning. He ends the call and his hands are shaking so much his phone ends up on the floor next to the futon and Tooru curls up in a ball and pulls all the covers around himself.

What was he thinking?

He holds his breath and counts.

And then it comes.

His phone rings and it is so _loud_ inside the silence surrounding him. He doesn't need to check who it is, because he knows who it is. He hesitates, hopes it will stop, but even after thirty seconds it's still ringing. He exhales harshly and then reaches out from the warm darkness and grabs the device, pulling it in and giving one last glance to the number he emfucking already knows by heart.

He answers.

"Yeah?"

"Oikawa."

He bites his lip and breathes shakily.

"Is everything alright?" comes the voice from the other side, as deep as ever, but not once harsh.

Tooru feels like crying. "No."

"Did something happen?"

The tone of voice is slightly higher, but it would be almost unnoticeable if Tooru weren't as observant as he is. But there's no way he can use it against him when he's the biggest wreck right now. It wouldn't have any of the desired impact he wants on Wakatoshi on his normal days.

"No... No- It's-" Just who is he kidding with? "Yes."

There is even more silence on the other side than in his room. Wakatoshi is giving him the time to speak and he's reluctant to take it but then where the hell is that insignificant pride of his when he's like this?

He opens his mouth after a while. "Everything's so fucked up..."

The strength to say more is disappearing.

"Why?" Wakatoshi is urging him to talk, as if he already knew it will make it better. But it can't make it better when the shit hasn't even started yet.

Tooru shuts his eyes tightly. "I shouldn't have given in..."

"To me?"

A click of his tongue. "Yeah, to you! Of course it's about you, you idiot! When have you even seen me like this in front of somebody else?!" His words come out angrily, like pure venom one would say if his voice only weren't so high pitched because of the way he is breathing.

Wakatoshi sighs. "Oikawa-"

"NO! Shut up!" he yells before he rolls over so he is lying face down with half of it buried in his pillow. "God, this sucks. I'm so pathetic it sucks."

His body grows limp and goosebumps form on his arms and suddenly it's freezing. Why don't those covers do what they are made for properly? Maybe it is just him, he figures the moment later - though it's really easy to get mad at somebody (or something) who isn't him.

He is the only one he should be angry at. No one knows it better than him.

"First we lost because of me," because of that stupid receive he fucking couldn't get. "Then, as soon as I managed to comfort my team at least a little, you come in front of me and tell me all the choices I made were complete shit - twice!" As he speaks, he feels his eyes burning and raises his free hand to cover them with it. _Because I'm really starting to think that what you said was true._

"And how did I react to that? I let you fuck me on that bloody pommel horse, that I cursed from the first day they brought it in our storage room and-" He blocks himself before it slips out of his mind. He didn't like it, he definitely didn't feel good from it. He would never.

 _Goddammit._

It sounds embarrassing enough to be telling this to the man he did it with and wasn't supposed to. But it's too late to stop now.

"I'm actually considering coming to Tokyo with you after just a while ago I promised and swore on everything I have I wouldn't stop chasing you until I'd beat you."

His hand moves from his face to his hair, gripping it tightly and hoping to get the last bit of dignity back to prevent himself from starting to cry again. "And the worst is yet to come," the heartbroken tone echoes more than it should.

He can't lose his Iwa-chan, the only one he could ever trust and consider his; the one who has always been on his side, taking care of him in moments of weakness and enjoying the ones when they were on the top of the world. He has given him so much and in exchange he-

He bets Wakatoshi can't even imagine it. How the hell can he feel safe with someone who only ever thinks about victory and has always been alone when obtaining it?

Tooru admits openly he is a mess, especially in moments like these; a huge mess that constantly needs to be controlled and put together and Wakatoshi can't do that. He just can't, because there's no way he knows how, being the way he is.

Tooru only now realizes how much it can't be him, despite the existence of that part of him who wants nothing else but that. However it's still so small it almost doesn't even bother him on normal days and isn't strong enough to make the choice for him.

"Listen, Ushiwaka-chan... I'm not ready for any of this. I'm not ready for Tokyo," _for letting go of my past_ , "I'm not ready for you," _and everything you have to offer to me_ \- because it's so much he wouldn't be able to live without if he gets to taste it even a bit. Tooru knows himself and the greed residing in the depths of his being better than anyone else. "I think it's better for me if I never see-"

"I want to see you."

Tooru's eyes widen.

The heart which seemed so dead until now starts to beat harder, ramming against the inner side of his rib cage, making it hurt like hell. _Please, don't do this to me,_ is everything his mind is able to scream.

"N-no... You don't understand! I don't want to-

"I want to see you, _Oikawa._ "

Tooru breaks down once again, before he even managed to build back his own foundations. He understands how fragile they are when he is alone and in front of someone like Wakatoshi, and when it takes a few words to turn them to ashes and then to nothingness. It is his own insecurity that is making him like this. His pride, his skills, they're all put down when facing the giant monster that's been devouring him for years.

Hajime should have been enough to put it down, but when he found out he wasn't the strongest pillar he could possibly lean on, it started to grow again, pushing him towards his limits despite his struggles to keep himself on his feet.

He has never been so miserable and it is funny, thinking how much he would like to be on court, losing to Wakatoshi all over again rather than showing his open wounds to him and offering him his feelings to take and play with as he pleases. He should be yelling at him, telling him to stop it because he doesn't want to.

And yet.

"My finals end on Wednesday. Let's meet on Thursday at 18.00 at the caf near Kitagawa Daiichi."

What is he doing?

He swears he can feel the screaming getting louder, but he doesn't react to it, eyes moving to the ceiling and stopping there. He feels his eyelids turning heavy as a burden he never knew he owned seems to let go of him.

"I'll see you then."

Tooru lets out a shaky breath. It seems like his perceptions are damaged, because deep down he's more than aware that he's making it worse, so much worse. "O-okay."

There is silence on the other end of the line for a long while and Tooru thinks, just for a moment, that Wakatoshi hung up on him and his hand is about to slip back down on his pillow, when he is stopped.

"Oikawa?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you don't need this conversation _right now_?"

"What?"

"I can be at your place in half an hour if you-"

"NO!"His eyes widen, breathing turning uneven after he sits up abruptly and clutches the sheets he is covered with for dear life. He swallows hard . he didn't even realize his mouth was so full until he almost choked on his own saliva. "No... Thursday's fine."

Because if he comes right now, Tooru isn't sure he will be able to maintain his composure like he should. For all he knows, it would end up exactly like one week ago. And he can't make that mistake ever again.

"Thursday it is then."

Tooru nods, even though he knows the spiker can't see him.

"Good."

He bites his lip harshly, closing his eyes and relaxing his muscles. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Oikawa."

It is him who ends the call first. He really doesn't want to wait for Wakatoshi to do it and risk blabbing out something to humiliate himself even more. He probably sounded ridiculous enough by now, so he guesses it is enough.

He is glad it is Sunday tomorrow; maybe, assuming he manages to fall asleep, he will feel better if he sleeps in and then studies the whole day. He needs a good final score and then he will be free, able to concentrate on volleyball again.

Volleyball.

His final choice.

He shakes his head and turns his phone off . he doesn't want to be bothered by anyone; he needs this time for himself, to rest and to _think._ He will need to talk to Hajime about it, and he needs to start picking his words carefully. Very carefully. Only knowing this is making is making his head hurts, so he decides to leave it for later.

Until Hajime stops feeling like shit because of their loss.

He knows him too well to know he is still blaming himself as much as Tooru is for that missed receive.

Too bad he doesn't have a wish to be granted no matter how impossible it were; he would choose to get back to that day to redo it all over and then leave with his team, without coming back to check on the others and sending someone else instead.

That way, the talk with Wakatoshi wouldn't have happened - or it would have been different. And maybe everything would be better right now.

He finds a comfortable position at last, hugging his pillow and burying his face in it after he pulls the blanket over himself, and it finally seems to be warm again.

" _Goodnight, Oikawa."_

He clicks with his tongue.

 _Damn him._

He closes his eyes with those words echoing in his head.

.

He doesn't wake up for the rest of the night.


	4. I Can See the Storm Clouds Coming

Wednesday's school hours end sooner than expected but then, Hajime actually _does_ expect it – hopes for it perhaps. He has been studying like a madman for the last three days and everything he needed to do today was to get into his classroom, take the exam and then be free until graduation.

And he does just that.

.

The teacher is nice enough to let them go home to rest and since the class manages to finish all their tasks by midday, Hajime decides to stop by the gym to say hi to his former teammates and to confirm his presence at the dinner meeting they planned after the Spring tournament ended.

They decide the date, the time and the place and then talk about other things. When Hajime is planning to leave, more or less an hour later, the others convince him to stay longer (it doesn't actually take much); Shigeru lends him some of his clothes and makes him play a couple of sets with them, offering himself to take Tooru's place as his setter.

Hajime's memory of that last failed toss is still fresh in his mind, even though he desperately tried to bury it between literature and maths – he never believed it would succeed, he still doesn't, but it was worth a try. Now that he doesn't need any of those subjects anymore, it seems to be surfacing again. The others notice it and make him avoid to think about it when they think it is too close to affect him.

The match is not what it is supposed to be though, because Tooru didn't come with him and instead excused himself by saying he should be heading home as soon as possible because there are a couple of things he wants to do. Then he asked if he could join him later and promised to cook him dinner if he stayed over.

Hajime accepted without thinking twice.

He ends up staying in the gym until the others have to leave for their afternoon classes and there is nothing else to do than leave as well. He chooses not to take a shower here and instead decides to take it at Tooru's. There he can also borrow some clean clothes so he doesn't have to change back into his uniform – he has really gotten sick of it now that it's starting to be hotter outside.

When he gets out of the gym and then of the school gates, he gets an idea. It would sure be nice if he went to the market to do some shopping so they can prepare something else than the usual rice and miso soup – he remembers his mother giving him plenty of money just for that. _"You and Tooru-kun need to celebrate! You've had two rough weeks, so take these and at least cook something decent,"_ she said to him with a wink when she shoved the bills in his hands before he could say anything in return.

The do need to celebrate after all.

So he stands with his idea, goes into the nearest store and buys lots of vegetables, mackerel and everything they need to prepare some homemade ramen – he thinks for a moment to get the instant one, but he figures that it is supposed to be for when they have little time; they have plenty of it now, so they can even have some fun in the kitchen this once.

He then grabs some juice and snacks – lots of milk bread for Tooru; he will sure want to eat that when they watch movies before going to sleep - before he heads to pay for the goods; he ends up getting out with two full bags of food.

Once on the street, he walks slowly. He finished earlier everything he needed to do; besides, he doesn't want to take the risk to break the bags – maybe he should have gotten three; two seem too fragile for all that stuff. Well, now it's too late anyway and all he can do is be careful with how he moves.

The weather is nice, but there is a bothering humidity in the air, making his nostrils feel weird when he breathes. He didn't check the news, so he doesn't know if it is supposed to rain or what, but he still hopes it gets dry by tomorrow.

The route through the park seems the best choice – it might be a tad of a longer walk, but there are less people who could get in his way. It is only when he gets past the small pond next to the playground where he and Tooru always used to play at when they were kids that he finds himself regretting his choice.

When he turns the corner, he looks in front of himself and when he sees _him_ standing on the exact spot where he remembers meeting Tooru for the first time, his eyes widen. Never would he expect to find Ushijima Wakatoshi here – especially because he lives in the peripheral side of the city from what he knows, which is at least forty-five minutes away from here.

His school is elsewhere too, so he is not returning from his lessons or training either.

Hajime doesn't think he wants to know – it would make him upset and then he would tell it to Tooru and then they would both end up sulking on the couch, which is not a way he wants to spend the night – Tooru is especially annoying when he's sulking, and gets even more childish than he already is.

His only goal, he figures, is to get to Tooru's house without having his mood ruined in the mean time, so he will just ignore him, walk past him and forget about seeing him. He has too many plans for tonight and one person he really doesn't like isn't allowed to ruin them.

He does just that, passes next to him with just a mere couple of centimeters between their shoulders, careful not to touch him. He is just an obstacle he must surpass. And all he needs this time is the functionality of his legs for walking and nothing else.

It isn't a game, a spiking contest – it is just the strength to keep himself from turning back towards him and lose.

Hajime feels relieved when he is behind him; it is finally over and hopefully he will never see him again.

"Iwaizumi Hajime."

 _Shit._

Hajime hears the deep familiar voice calling his name; the pace of his steps slows down slowly until it comes to a stop. The muscles of his back and upper thighs are tense under those gold eyes that have always been looking down on him and he doesn't know what to do other than turning around at looking back at him hoping not to be looking as shaky as he's feeling.

He is surprised to notice he isn't really as far from him as he thought he got. It feels weird, especially because this time it's just him and Wakatoshi and no Tooru to keep his mind from wandering off like this.

At first Hajime is doubting what he sees, but when after half a minute Wakatoshi's eyes don't resume that severe gaze they usually have, he loses himself and doesn't know what to think.

"It was not the same, playing the finals without Seijō as our opponent," he begins and Hajime's eyes widen again. _Whst?_ He isn't sure he heard right and there is a moment when he believes Wakatoshi is joking, but then– he is always serious.

The loss against Karasuno flashes briefly before his eyes and he instinctively lowers his head. "Things don't always go as planned I guess." He is incredulous at the quietness of his voice and the sudden weakness overwhelming his body.

Wakatoshi stares at him, observing every detail of his face and then his eyes travel down his body, from his neck to his feet – the stiffness of his muscles is impossible to hide from him; he and Tooru are quite similar when it comes to this, he figures.

Also, what he just said... _Things don't always go as planned,_ huh?

If he were another type of person, he would find it funny. Until now, everything he wanted he managed to get in the end: the strength, the captain title, assured victories, _Tooru_...

Tooru.

He still isn't his though.

And it is because of the man in front of him.

 _Iwaizumi Hajime._

Wakatoshi, no matter how stronger he is than him, deep inside, has always envied him for being the chosen one to be by Tooru's side. Despite all the times he tried to make him come with him, offering him his strength and power and the victory he always cried for so much - stil is -, the setter has always chose him instead.

Wakatoshi knows.

It could never be both after all.

There has never been any place for Hajime at Shiratorizawa and, with Wakatoshi there as the ace of the team, the only spot he could have gotten eventually would have been on the benches or on the bleachers to cheer.

Wakatoshi – and most likely Tooru too – has always known he wouldn't be enough to beat him in a match, ever (especially not with a team like Seijō) and yet, he has always been the one being chosen instead of him and everything better. Wakatoshi admires the loyalty to him on Tooru's part and it's everything he has ever wanted for himself as well.

But Hajime never faltered and kept him for himself without letting him even try it even once.

It is true that Tooru has always refused him, but Hajime had a big part in all of it, always assuring the other boy his presence in times of weakness and need. Wakatoshi has always wanted to do it as well but with him in the way, it was and is impossible to even wish for it properly.

That is why when he found Tooru in Seijō's gym, _alone_ , he considered it a blessing.

Tooru is impossibly easier to handle and manipulate (not something Wakatoshi wants to do but finds himself constantly having to) when there is no Hajime around him to stabilize him when he is about to go off like a time bomb before breaking down.

Without Hajime around, Tooru let him closer, he let him finally touch that flawless skin of his, kiss those lips... He let him _in._

Wakatoshi, despite the nature of his being, can't help but wonder if he is ever going to be lucky enough to get another taste of him, the one he has longed for for so many years and – he's more than aware – there is only one clear situation in which that can happen.

"Have you decided if you want to keep on with the studies and where?"

Wakatoshi usually doesn't care about any of this – he doesn't even know where his teammates are going to attend next year. All he needs is to keep playing volleyball and compete, possibly at his fullest strength.

The obtaining of _everything_ he desires depends on this one single answer.

Hajime doesn't expect the sudden question coming out of him. Since when does Wakatoshi hold any kind of interest for him? All he has ever had eyes for is Tooru, while he was the one being either ignored or treated like total shit because "he'll never be enough to beat me, Oikawa; you should know that better than me."

Tooru has never said anything to that statement. He never confirmed it, but didn't deny it either during the last two years. Whenever they came in contact with the spiker, he only stood stiff and tense until it was over. Either way, it has always been about him.

So why isn't he asking about where _Tooru_ is going to instead? Shouldn't he be more interested in that?

Apparently not.

Hajime struggles for the first time in a while; there are less than three weeks until graduation and he still has no clue on where to go next year. He doesn't want to quit school, that is the only sure thing in his life right now.

Everything else is questionable.

"I'm definitely going to go somewhere next year," he begins, back straight to match Wakatoshi. "I still haven't decided where."

Wakatoshi's eyes are fixed on him as if Hajime was some kind of target – it is making him uncomfortable, but he can win this. He definitely can, even if he is on his own. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Hajime flinches when Wakatoshi thoughtfully hums in response to what he said, looking strangely- disappointed? And then he sighs and Hajime can't be anything but confused at this point. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That sigh... It looks almost as if my answer disappointed you," he explains. He really can't stand that attitude of his; he acts superior around everyone he's with and Hajime's sick of it, especially after how he countless times treated his team in the past – fortunately none of them met him after the Karasuno match.

"I suppose you have already made your choice, unlike me," _because it's you after all,_ is what he wants to add but then decides against it.

Wakatoshi nods. "Tokyo. I am going to Tokyo."

Hajime's eyes widen. Tokyo? Isn't that where Tooru wants to- Oh. He doesn't know about Wakatoshi yet, does he? Well, how could he even when they never see each other – maybe he should tell him so he can avoid him sulking and getting angry because he won't be able to beat him anymore.

"You're going to keep playing volleyball then."

Wakatoshi doesn't even think when he gives him the answer. "Of course." Gold eyes narrow curiously. "Why? Are you not?"

Hajime's mind immediately thinks about Tooru, who wants to keep playing, wants a career with the sport he loves ever since he was a child. He remembers when he got his first ball for his seventh birthday and how he treated it as his biggest and most precious treasure.

He remembers when he made him spike it when they were older. And how he himself fell in love with it too.

Having Tooru as his setter was definitely the most wonderful of experiences, no matter how happy they were for their victories and no matter how hard were they losses. Tooru made everything just so good. If it were possible, Hajime would never even think about choosing a different path from his setter.

But he let him down.

So many times.

And it is only natural for him to think about Tooru's well-being, which most of the times is given to him by his success. Hajime understood long ago that there is only so much he can give him – it is extremely limited and never enough to make him reach the top.

The main problem is that he doesn't even know what he's going to do. It doesn't take a genius to know he is never going to make it on a national team, unlike Tooru or Wakatoshi and-

"I don't know. There are still... things I need to see before I decide."

Wakatoshi nods, gold eyes never leaving him. There is a long moment of silence between them during which they don't move and just look at each other.

Hajime breaks it after a minute, coughing and finally looking away. "I should go now... I have to be somewhere, so I shouldn't lose any more time."

"I should be on my way as well."

Hajime turns around slowly. "I'll see you around then." He hopes he doesn't. When his back is turned towards him, he exhales heavily and starts to walk away slowly, gripping the two bags in his hands tightly.

"Iwaizumi."

Hajime's breath hitches in his throat.

"There is going to be a storm tonight."

He stops in his tracks once again, turning around, bewildered. "Wha-"

But Wakatoshi is already far away from him and it would be pointless to follow him now just to see the look on his face. But what was _that_ supposed to mean? He focuses instinctively on the sky above him – there are clouds and what Wakatoshi said explains the humidity.

But it is not going to be a storm, is it?

Even though, it didn't really feel like Wakatoshi was talking about weather. He returns on his track and decides not to think about it.

* * *

Wakatoshi knows Hajime is going to Tooru's place – there isn't anywhere else he would be going right now. It is Wednesday after all, the last day of Seijō's exams. He finished his own yesterday and now he is looking forward to tomorrow. He stops in front of the cafè and looks at it – he once went there with his team after a practice match against Kitagawa Daiichi.

He doesn't go in.

* * *

When Hajime finally arrives at his destination after a twenty-minute walk that felt like an eternity, he knocks on the door as usual. He hears rushed steps down the stairs two seconds later and can't help but smile.

And then it opens and Tooru's head peeks behind it.

"Iwa-chan!" He opens it all the way and motions him to come in, so Hajime does.

They go to the kitchen at Hajime's request so he can put the bags down for now. Tooru wastes no time to look inside while Hajime takes himself a glass of water – after that meeting, he is really thirsty.

"You brought me milk bread!" Tooru yells when he pulls out the first of the six bags he got him. His brown eyes are wide and shiny and Hajime can't help but feel amused by his reaction – he really is a kid even though he always tries not to behave like one. His reactions keep giving him out.

"Eat this one. It's still too early for dinner anyway. Let's go to the living room – there's a movie I want to see," Hajime says and heads there with Tooru following close by.

They both make themselves comfortable on the couch. Tooru insists to lie down on his lap despite Hajime's initial protests and he eventually manages to do so, putting a pillow on Hajime's legs and adjusting himself on it. He then opens the plastic bag containing his favorite food and licks his lips.

"You look like a dog."

"Don't be rude Iwa-chan!"

"Don't eat while lying down. You're going to choke."

Tooru smirks. "Are you perhaps worried about me, Iwa-chan? You're turning into such a big softie," he teases and Hajime immediately flicks his forehead. "Ouch! You're so mean!"

"And you're an idiot." It doesn't come harsh, so Tooru doesn't whine anymore. He takes a first bite and hums, closing his eyes. "So good~"

Hajime chuckles and then shakes his head. He takes a hold of the remote control on the other cushion and turns on the TV. The movie has already started and he throws his head back and relaxes. Tooru is warm against him, and he can't help but realize he really likes the way it feels.

He thought about having a shower as soon as he got here, but he can wait until before they start cooking. Tooru turns his head to look at him, swallowing the last bite and then leaning more into him. "Thanks, Iwa-chan."

"I bring it to you every time."

Tooru laughs. "But it's still good. Every time."

Hajime shakes his head and puts his hand over Tooru's eyes, covering them gently. "Iwa-chan?"

"We're free now, Oikawa."

Tooru's lips curve up slightly. "Yup."

They don't speak for a while after that. The only noise in the room is coming from the television while they watch one thing after another. Eventually they end up moving and Hajime's lying on the couch with Tooru on top of him, with his head under his neck and Hajime's arms wrapped around him.

"Iwa-chan?"

"Hmm?"

"You stink."

Hajime narrows his eyes. "Fuck you." But he does stink, he practiced for two hours so there is no surprise.

"Were you at the gym with the others?" comes right after his insult. Hajime immediately moves a hand to his hair and feels Tooru leaning into the touch. He wasn't there after all; it's been more than a week, almost two, since he last went there to say hi.

"Yeah."

Tooru nods against him and Hajime doesn't see his expression even though he wishes he could.

"How are they?"

"Fine. They're practicing hard already. They want to redeem themselves next year."

"Oh."

Tooru doesn't add anything after that and focuses only on the illuminated screen in front of them. Hajime's arms keep him in place and there is nothing he wishes more than to stay like this forever. It is safe, warm-

"You're staying the night, right?"

"I thought it was obvious," comes the answer not even a second later.

Tooru smiles at that and closes his eyes. "That's good." He can't help but feel easier about everything he has been thinking about. It is easier to pretend nothing happened and Hajime doesn't suspect a thing. Tomorrow he is going to meet with Wakatoshi and tell him there is going to be nothing of the deal he proposed to him and he is going to give him his jacket back and then he forget everything that happened.

He is still considering picking Tokyo though – it is still the best one for the career he wants to pursue, but it would be nothing like Wakatoshi wants.

His hands grip tighter on Hajime's shirt and they watch the last part of the movie without letting out a sound. During the end credits, Tooru finally looks up at him. "I'm hungry."

Hajime sits up, bringing Tooru with him and stretches. "The ingredients are in the bag so pull them out. I'll take a quick shower and then we'll get to work."

The setter nods and stands up. Hajime follows him for a while until they part ways in the main hall, Tooru heading into the kitchen like he was asked and Hajime going upstairs to the bathroom.

Once in front of the bags, Tooru carefully examines each one, trying to find everything they need – he finds out they need pretty much everything Hajime picked out. Seeing the ingredients, Tooru immediately understands it is going to be a full-filling dinner and he must admit he is looking towards it.

Hajime has always been a great cook – better than Tooru in any case – because his mother always insisted for him to learn at least the basic dishes and Hajime did because otherwise he'd have to do other chores he never looked forward to. Tooru's grateful for that.

"I didn't go home before I came here, so I'll borrow some of your clothes!" Hajime yells from the top of the stairs and Tooru yells back, telling him it is alright. It has always been alright. They have always borrowed each other's clothes, ever since they were kids. Tooru isn't actually aware of how many of his own clothes actually belonged to Hajime once upon a time, but there is no need to know. If he'll ever want them back, he can just go to his house and get them.

Besides, he is pretty sure some of his sweatpants and T-shirts are at Hajime's too.

Tooru muses he should get a bigger closet in the future – if he keeps buying himself clothes and stealing Hajime's, he is going to need more space than what he has now.

It takes him a minute before he realizes it.

 _His closet._

Wakatoshi's jacket.

"Oh, _fuck_!"

Iwa-chan.

 _No, no. No no nonono-_

He turns on his heel, dropping the package of the eggs from his hands carelessly, not even thinking about how they could break, and runs out of the room and up the stairs – he forgets to breathe, panic overflows; he turns the corner, grabs the door of his room and opens it as wide as possible.

No.

His eyes widen.

 _No._

"What's this?" Hajime turns around, the purple jacket held in his hands and one of the most confused looks Tooru's ever seen on somebody's face. He doesn't know what his own face might look like though, but he feels his blood stopping, freezing in his veins – so he must be totally pale by now.

His chest heaves, the rush upstairs without breathing is hard even for him. But it is not what matters right now.

 _Why now? Of everything you could have-_

His meeting with Wakatoshi was arranged one day too late.

Hajime's eyes are as wide as his and the expression on his face is the exact thing Tooru wanted to avoid for all this. "Can I get any explanation about this?" To emphasize his words, the spiker raises the cloth and Tooru makes a step back as if it were threatening to kill him any moment – he wishes it was, for real. Because he would totally let it.

But one step is the only thing he can manage, because right after, his body paralyzes and he stops on the one spot at the doorstep. His mouth is full, too full – he swallows hard, feeling his eyes burning. "I... I..." His mouth is open, but there is no sound coming out whatsoever other than a couple of weak syllables that make absolutely no sense.

Hajime stares at him as if he's seen him for the first time, and it is something between shock, curiosity and desire, a burning desire to _know._

Tooru can't speak.

So Hajime sighs, eyes moving down on the cloth and hands moving over it, feeling the waterproof softness of its fabric. If his setter isn't going to speak, then he shall do it first. "I saw Ushiwaka today, before I came here," Hajime begins and Tooru dares a step forward but stops himself before he gets too close, eyes wide and mouth still open. "But it looks like you saw him first."

Tooru can't help but shiver.

Did Wakatoshi tell him? _How much_ did he tell him? Suddenly he feels as if he were standing on a layer of extremely thin glass and it's about to crack under his weight and make him fall into the darkest of pits. The air in his lungs isn't enough, but the muscles of his body for some reason don't allow him to take any more in to fill the missing gap, even though he swear that, just a minute ago, his lungs were perfectly functional.

He should have told him not to tell anything to anyone, even if for some reason he hoped Wakatoshi would have kept it to himself – he never thought he could go around and talk about it.

Unless he didn't go to Hajime just to tell him that to break them apart. He should have never trusted him with his weakness – he shouldn't have called to tell him he is breaking Hajime-

"It's not what you think-"

" _What_ am I thinking, Oikawa?" Hajime asks, avoiding the setter's gaze and readjusting the jacket on the hanger before putting it back in the wardrobe where he found it. He bites his lip when he realizes it was put right next to Tooru's Seijō uniform.

He hears Tooru moving to close the door of the room – pointless, since nobody is home; but Hajime figures it is just to gain some time he doesn't know how he will use – and then sighing heavily. "I saw him a while ago; he actually came to look for me at our gym."

Hajime's body stiffens.

He was in their gym? After everything he-

"What the hell did he come for?"

"To _talk_ to me," Tooru mumbles. It is half of the truth of course, but he can't tell him that. Hajime looks hurt enough already and it's taking everything Tooru has not to keep himself together and not give it away.

Hajime's snapping doesn't help. "To talk to you about what?! Don't tell me he tried once again to convince you to come to his team!" The spiker knows too well it's something Wakatoshi does. There still hasn't been a year where he decided not to try.

There hasn't been a year when Tooru didn't refuse out loud either and instead has always turned around and left.

His eyes follow Tooru's body, which moves from his spot at the door to his futon before he sits down on it and hugs his legs to his chest. Hazel eyes look unfocused, almost empty. "He wanted to talk about college." He feels his body growing limp, almost as if his own strength were leaving him. Maybe Hajime will stop. He hopes he will stop. He is not ready to handle this conversation right now.

"And at what point did you switch from talking to putting on his jacket without telling me afterwords?" Hajime asks after he closes the wardrobe and lets out a sigh. "I know we don't tell each other every single detail of our day – or better, it is me who doesn't, since you keep blabbing about everything I don't even ask – but I think this one was worth mentioning. Or am I wrong?"

Tooru lowers his head – he can't handle this, just like he thought – and the action only seems to irritate the spiker. "You know, Ushiwaka came by the gym today. He told me this and that. Doesn't seem too hard to say." After he says these words, something comes to his mind. "Unless..."

Tooru bites his lip.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

This time, when Tooru stiffens, Hajime notices it. _Just like I thought._ There is a part of the story he is missing and from the way Tooru is looking like right now, it is something he _should_ know.

The refusal to make eye contact on Tooru's part makes Hajime's blood boil in his veins – he is acting like this all over again. He knows it better than anyone else, the meaning of this behavior. It happened when they first lost against Wakatoshi, when Tooru shut all his emotions after Tobio arrived and then snapped, when he hurt his knee and when he sprained his ankle.

 _Every_ time.

The same reaction.

"Do I have to drag the words out of your mouth because you don't know how to say it or do you not want to talk about it at all?"

Tooru bites his lip, the content of his unspoken words dances around his mind, making him miserable and incredibly weak (much more than he thought it would). "It's not that I don't want to, Iwa-chan... It's just..." The sentence is broken by his dying voice who soon disappears.

Hajime sighs again.

He takes the couple of steps he needs to reach the futon and then he lowers down so he is on the same level as Tooru. He looks at him, eye to eye, moves his hands on his shoulders and then slides them gently up his neck and over his cheeks, cupping them and making so he won't be able to get away.

Tooru tries to shift, but Hajime prevents it and keeps him still. He is not going to let go until he knows.

"Look at me."

Tooru doesn't comply, instead his eyes sink even lower, looking to the side.

Hajime's grip on him tightens on reflex, calloused fingers pull on Tooru's brown locks making a slight grimace appear on his face and a small hiss escape his mouth.

"I said look at me!"

It is authoritative this time and Tooru, no matter how much he wants to keep his secret and not look at him until he asks him something else, doesn't want it to stay like this, especially when it is directed at him.

Hajime's eyes are piercing him. Or at least it feels like that, like a thousand sharp needles slowly entering his skull and stabbing his brain.

"Tell me, _Oikawa._ "

Tooru is looking at him now, and his mouth opens only to be closed again a few seconds later without any sound coming out.

Hajime grits his teeth, now furious – does Tooru really not trust him after everything they've been through? - lets go of him and stands up abruptly. "For fuck's sake, Oikawa!" he shouts and Tooru jolts in surprise. "I don't understand what it is that bothers you and for which twisted reason you don't want to talk about it to me, but if you're going to keep this silent facade of yours, I'm leaving."

May their evening go to hell, because Hajime isn't going to take this.

He takes a step towards the door, ready to get out, gather his belongings and then go home like he hoped he wouldn't need to do, but then he is stopped by a pull on his shirt. Tooru finally reacts before it is too late.

"He just came to the gym and started to talk. I only wanted to leave, but..."

Hajime's will to leave leaves as soon as he pronounces those words. Tooru, however, still keeps gripping to his shirt; Hajime clicks with his tongue. "Stop pulling, you idiot. I'm here."

Tooru shakes his head. "Can you sit down? Please?"

Hajime is about to reply that he's fine on his feet, but the look Tooru gives him makes him swallow it and nod. "Okay... _Okay_."

He settles next to the setter so they are side to side, shoulders touching lightly. There is a brief moment of silence until Tooru's body's tense again. Hajime looks at him, eyes slightly wide. "Oi-"

"Don't get mad at me, Iwa-chan," he mumbles, hazel eyes staring at his own trembling hands. "Promise you won't get mad at me, Iwa-chan."

Hajime hesitates.

Tooru doesn't start until he gives him a small nod.

"Keep talking."

"Okay..." Tooru feels his voice betraying him, coming too high-pitched as if his whole body were anticipating what's about to come. He's more than aware that what he's going to say isn't what Hajime's ready to hear – he isn't ready to remember it either, too afraid of a possible loss of control over his emotions.

He inhales.

And it begins.

"He asked me where I want to go next year, like I already mentioned earlier – because he always does this, Iwa-chan. He told me he's going to Tokyo and... He asked me to come with him."

He peeks at Hajime from the corner of his eye, trying to read if there's anything on his face, but there is only the same tension he is feeling as well. Tooru realizes it is making him lose his eye for detail, because while he usually can tell anything going through Hajime's head, in any moment, now he can't see anything.

It is dark.

Unknown.

"When I asked him why I should go with him, he started with the usual story about how I'll never manage to beat him." Tooru remembers that part far too well. "He shit on every single choice I've made: he said I picked the wrong team and I shouldn't have stayed for so long. He said they're worthless and he even said that _you_ are worthless, because you're weaker than him, even with my help." The memory of the harsh words makes him still shake with anger.

Hajime notices that, of course.

He says nothing.

Because Tooru still has more to say.

"I got mad, really mad. I yelled at him and even tried to punch him, because I can't take it when someone says this about you, but he pushed me against the wall and pinned me against it."

Hajime's shoulders tense visibly.

Tooru pauses for a moment and then licks his dry lips before resuming his story. "I tried to break free, but he just wasn't letting go. The more I struggled, the stronger he held me... Then he kissed me," he swallows everything he's got in his mouth – that kiss is something he'll probably remember for a long time. "I tried to escape him again, but he started to touch me, to keep me still even more... Then, he-"

Tooru's breath hitches in his throat.

He can't _not_ tell him that.

Hajime would notice him keeping something else.

And he-

"Did he force you?" comes Hajime's question out of the blue.

And Tooru jumps.

"NO!" He realizes how much he snapped the moment Hajime's eyes widen at the straightforwardness of his answer and loudness of his voice. He shakes his head hesitantly. "No..." he repeats, much quieter now. "He was so... He said he wants me, he said he wants me _with him_ , and I..." His voice doesn't let him finish.

Hajime understands. "You didn't push him away anymore."

Tooru bites his lip in shame, lowering his head as down as possible and letting out a shaky breath. "He gave me a chance to stop and get out of it, but I didn't take it." As soon as those words are spoken, Tooru starts to observe him.

Hajime is completely still, looking almost as if he weren't breathing. A couple of seconds later he inhales and looks at him, meeting his eyes. Tooru doesn't think he has ever had to maintain such a heavy eye contact before – the silence makes it even more difficult than it already is.

"So you _let_ him, huh?" he asks and the calm and quietness of his tone is extremely worrying – in some ways even disturbing, because Iwa-chan is never quiet with him – and even the way his body is. Almost as it didn't hit him at all.

And then Tooru notices.

His fists.

The way they are clenched is probably making his nails dig in his palms so painfully (Tooru wouldn't be surprised if he saw blood staining his sheets all of a sudden).

Tooru swallows.

He excepted this talk to be weird, that is why he wanted to avoid it at all costs. But Hajime wants the truth and, well, he already told him the worst part. So...

"I didn't want it in the beginning. At all." He takes in a deep breath, cursing the part of his mind that is making him feel like this. "But then, in the end... – he can feel the other part of him screaming at him to shut up – I didn't regret it." Tooru never wished for a slap to shut him up more than now.

Hajime is not looking at him anymore, but Tooru can tell the blow has been hard on him. _Very_ hard on him.

"Did he say anything else?"

"He said he's capable of bringing me victory and that he's going to if I come with him. To Tokyo." Tooru doesn't know why he suddenly feels a longing in the depth of his stomach – maybe it's because he has never been standing on a thinner layer of ice, or maybe because he's craving to at least see, to feel the Nationals at least once in his volleyball career.

But Hajime seems like he just received the umpteenth slap in the face.

"You're actually thinking about it, aren't you? You _want_ to go?"

Tooru wishes for his neck to break when he nods without thinking. Because they both notice his sudden lack of hesitation none of them (Tooru especially) knows where it is coming from.

"I... am thinking about it. But I don't know..." Wakatoshi is a mystery to him: other than his super powerful spike, his want to have him in his team and the worst personality he has ever seen in a person, he knows nothing about him. He doesn't know where he lives, what he is like when there is no volleyball topic to be talked about, _what he would be like if he was with-_

He knows _nothing._

Hajime understands by know that Tooru has changed. There is no more of that visceral hate he felt for him during all those past years, but curiosity is making its way through now that there are important life decisions to make. Hajime doubts only because of sex (Tooru may be a frivolous man, but he isn't _that_ easy) and can't help but feel something weird in his gut that's making his body feel heavy all of a sudden.

His eyes move on Tooru's body, stopping on the lower part of his stomach.

"Are you alright now?"

Tooru blinks. "Huh?"

"Was he... rough?"

It takes him some time to understand, but eventually he does. And may his thoughtlessness be damned. "I'm fine! It stung a little in the beginning, but it had plenty of time to..." He suddenly stops.

Hajime stiffens.

Tooru _really_ wants to slap himself.

Hajime figures Tooru did say it happened a while ago, but he never said the exact number of days or anything, so... Just how long ago did it happen and he didn't know about it?

"Plenty of time? Just how much of it?"

Tooru knows he just finished digging his own grave and unfortunately it's too late to pull back, all the strength he had gathered to look him in the eye vanishes and his head drops. "Almost two weeks."

Hajime's jaw drops. It happened _two weeks_ ago? All of a sudden, he is connecting all the strange and weird behaviors of the setter when he last visited him. He was tense, insecure; trying to distract him from that phone number and his wardrobe with the jacket inside.

That's what made him like that.

Was he even going to tell him at some point if he hadn't managed to find out about it?

The silence that follows is the longest one they have had in years. Hajime's mind is a mess and Tooru seems to be trying to understand, to read. Hazel eyes observe as the spiker's calloused fingers tremble and then grip on the fabric of the futon underneath him so tightly Tooru almost feels it hurting.

The eye contact has been lost for a while.

Tooru doesn't manage to see him this time.

And he has never been so afraid.

"Iwa-chan..." The way he calls him is soft, unsure, but Hajime doesn't react to it; black eyes stare at the wall in front of him, his whole body grows numb. Because Tooru kept it in even though he had so many opportunities to tell him.

 _Just what are they to each other?_

Hajime's mouth runs dry.

.

Friends.

.

 _Friends?_

.

His teeth bite on his tongue harshly until he can feel a faint taste of blood on it. He vaguely hears Tooru's voice calling him again as his mind goes blank.

"Iwa-chan?"

.

It hurts.

.

He takes in some air, trying to fill the emptiness in his lungs. All the realization dawns on him and crushes him down until he can't think he can hold it up anymore. It isn't really because Tooru didn't tell him or what he did, right? A part of him is trying to tell him something but he's completely deaf to it and doesn't catch a word of it.

.

 _Why does it hurt like this?_

.

"Hajime."

He is pulled back to earth when his given name escapes Tooru's lips. The so unfocused gaze finally starts to see his surroundings again and focuses on every detail of the room he learned by heart so long ago. It shifts from the closed wardrobe to the shelf where Tooru's 'Best Setter' Award is standing next to a photograph of their former team at Kitagawa Daiichi and the one they took in the beginning of this last year at Aobajōsai.

Then he looks at the door.

And he stands up on instinct without speaking a word.

"What are you doing?" Tooru watches as Hajime's body starts to move towards the door with wide eyes, and then his arm is raising, hand reaching for the handle.

In less than a second, Tooru is on his feet, jolting towards him and stopping when only a step away, but still so close he can feel his breath repulsed by the warm skin on Hajime's neck. "Where are you going, Hajime?" He's tempted to touch him, to lay his hand on his back – he really needs to feel his presence right now – but Hajime's voice stops him from putting the thought into action.

"Home. It'd be better if I leave..."

Tooru's eyes widen even more. "Leave? No. Wait. Stay..." The effort to regain some of his composure is enormous, but it's everything he has. "I thought you'd spend the night with me."

Hajime finally turns around to look at him. "Spend the night... _With you_?"

The look in his eyes is making Tooru's blood freeze in his veins and take a shaky step back. He should rephrase it probably. "I- I didn't mean it like that. Weren't we supposed to celebrate tonight? Cook together, watch some movies and-"

"You actually expected me to stay after what you just told me?"

"You promised you wouldn't get mad!" Tooru replies without thinking twice, and it's true even though deep inside he knows it's not that simple. But still, Iwa-chan promised. Iwa-chan always kept all of his promises, so even this one-

"I don't think I can keep this one. That's why I'd better leave." Because Tooru is not the only thing he is seeing right now. Wakatoshi is behind him and there is no will in the world that could refrain him from thinking and wondering and _seeing._

And he feels like throwing up.

He turns around, refuses to watch Tooru any further. He wants to leave. He _needs_ to leave.

His hand grabs the handle almost violently and opens the damn door, ready to step out and get away from all of this. He doesn't want it in his head, he-

Tooru's hands are on his arm, keeping him from moving and for a moment he sees black.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Hajime misses the moment his body turns around and his hand comes in contact with the setter's face in the strongest slap he has ever given him (or anyone), making him almost fall on his back.

Tooru manages to keep his balance somehow. But he didn't expect this. He definitely didn't expect this. His eyes start to burn as they move one last time on the spiker's figure, who is now turned towards him, face close to his one and a desperate, pained look plastered on it that makes him want to scream in pain and regret all of his actions.

" _You make me sick_."

If Tooru's body was already still and heavy before, now it is paralyzed until his feet start to move on their own with the intent to follow his spiker and stop him from getting out of his house and try one last attempt to save the evening from crashing down.

He sees Hajime downstairs, already standing in front of the door, bent over to change his shoes before he leaves. He still has time.

He only needs to get downstairs.

His foot doesn't even manage to touch the first stair.

"Don't you even dare to follow me, understood?!" Hajime doesn't look at him when he yells at him. But his tone is hostile, cold, unfamiliar. Hajime got mad at Tooru a lot of times in the past, but never had he talked to him like this. Like he is the filthiest being on the earth, not worthy to even be alive, let along to be by his side.

So Tooru stops.

He watches as Hajime straightens up.

It is already pouring outside, just like Tooru's seen on the news – it is going to be a stormy night, they said. And Tooru figures it is not only going to be raining for him.

Hajime grabs an umbrella next to where he is standing. Tooru recognizes it – Hajime gave it to him one evening when he forgot his own; it isn't needed to mention Tooru never gave it back and held on it as if it were on of the rarest and most precious treasures of the world – even more precious than his first volley ball.

Then Hajime is opening the door, stepping out, and slamming it close behind him. The noise makes shivers run down Tooru's spine, eyes never leaving it.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Seven minutes pass before Tooru exhales and is aware of it.

The dead silence around him is back.

As well as the loneliness.

Tooru feels his eyes burning, because it is killing him and he should have never told him, he should have never faltered before anything and-

It is too late.

 _Hajime is gone._

And if he follows him, the bruise on his cheek won't be the only one marking his body. Tooru knows. Because he has never seen Hajime like this and, right now, he knows he shouldn't be close to him. At all.

Until they both get themselves back together.

The silence is killing him though. Tooru knows it is going to finish him off if he stays like this, alone in a huge empty house. So he does what he has been doing for the past couple of weeks to make his mind occupied with something else even for the briefest of moments.

He rushes to his room, opens his wardrobe, pulls out the thickest one of his track suits and slides it on. He then sprints downstairs, slides on his sneakers and runs out of there before he is done for.

It is pouring and he is wet after three steps, soaked after ten, freezing cold after thirty-

-but he still runs.


	5. And then You Found Me

Tooru doesn't know for how long he has been running.

Everything around him has been nothing but a blur – his eyes are burning as tears threaten to come out and he desperately struggles to hold them in; he can't let them spill. Not yet. The only thing he is feeling right now (and is barely conscious about it) is the pouring rain falling all around him and all over him, drenching his hair and clothes, moving through the fabric of his pants and tracksuit until they reach his freezing cold skin.

His breathing has been erratic for a while now; ever since he stopped running like he is supposed to and started to sprint wherever his feet seem to want to take him.

His hands are cold, maybe even too cold: he can't even feel the tip of his fingers, and usually in this situation Hajime would tell him it is not good for a setter like him to be so careless about his most precious possession. Also, running in the cold is no good. Running under the rain of a violent storm is even worse.

But Hajime is not here.

And Tooru, as much as he would like him to come out of anywhere and take him by the hand and walk him home where it is dry and warm, is grateful he is not seeing him like this.

His muscles have been screaming at him ever since he ran past the last few houses and into the countryside, especially because the overwork he is putting them through under such a cold weather and in those psychological conditions is everything he should not be doing because of his past condition.

This time he is also elsewhere, a place he never went to.

It is extremely far from his house and, while it takes forty minutes to reach it, it also takes forty minutes to get back.

A part of him, the small one who is still barely conscious, is starting to doubt his dumb choice to try and forget what happened before with a senseless run, but the brief sound in the back of his mind gets buried by the sound of the droplets of rain hitting the ground. Because it is not its duty to put some sense back into him; it would be doing him no good: it could only remind him of how much Hajime would scold him and kick him to take care of him and would end up doing nothing but damage to his body.

And if all of this wasn't already enough, his leg hurts.

 _Again._

It's not just the usual pain Tooru remembers having from overworking himself at the gym, that usually goes away by the next morning, no. It's that _fucking_ knee, whose ache has been such a mental relief during the last couple of days and now is becoming the reason he most likely isn't going to get home until the next two hours.

If he only were capable of thinking clearly and listening to what his brain is telling him and turn around before he widens the distance even more.

But he just doesn't want to go back there.

If he does, he is not sure he is going to keep it together.

" _You make me sick."_

His mouth has been dry for a while, and it is funny because everything he would need to do is part his lips, throw his head back, and fill it as much as he requires, but he doesn't and the thirst doesn't stop him – he increases speed even more and the tearing feeling in his tendon causes him to grimace and grunt, but that too isn't enough to make him stop. He even forgot to put on his brace, too panicking and uneasy and delirious after Hajime slammed the door and left him alone.

If the rain was causing him enough problems until now, darkness decides to join it to make him even more miserable. He is exhausted, he is pushing himself more than he should; he didn't eat or drink anything except for the one package of milk bread while he was watching the first move with Hajime.

 _Hajime._

Just what has he done to him – to _them_?

" _DON'T TOUCH ME!"_

The need to throw up is strong, but his stomach is too empty to let anything out, his body too exhausted to do anything. But he won't stop. He doesn't want to stop because that is going to make him remember, _think_. _Feel_. And he has crossed too many lines for today to be ready for another dose of guilt and panic and regret to start eating him alive.

He doesn't want it. That feeling...

He doesn't want any of it.

Nobody must see him like this.

With the will in his head, he focuses his eyes on the ground, forcing himself to watch out for any possible obstacle that could make him trip and fall – if that happens, it is going to break his concentration – and increases speed even more.

He passes by a huge field of wheat and by another one of corn and doesn't stop. He sees a few houses further away but ends up passing by them too – he has lost track of where he is a while ago, his mind goes blank and soon he doesn't know where he is heading anymore – not that he had a specific location in mind before -, because it doesn't really matter as long as it isn't his home.

Seconds, minutes go by, his body grows weaker; his eyelids are heavy all of a sudden and his arms aren't moving along his body anymore; his leg wobbles every time he leans his weight on it and his skin is way too wet and the cold water is piercing through his skin and right into his bones..

As expected, the speed he is trying to maintain doesn't last long with the condition his body is in and when it starts to decrease, his sight becomes even more of a blur, until he is forced to close his eyes.

And it happens.

He suddenly crashes against something, which he finds out is a _someone_ when he feels some moving at the impact. He isn't balanced enough to stay on his feet and instead falls back and on the wet ground of the sidewalk with a loud thud. He hisses when his butt comes in contact with it, but he tries to force a smile nonetheless (he is not really sure of how it comes out though). "Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts and I didn't see where I was going."

"Oikawa?"

Hazel eyes widen, his body stiffens.

Wait.

 _Wait._

He looks up, but the rain and the darkness make it hard to see, and he forces himself to raise his hands up to rub his eyes and wipe away all the water from his eyelashes so he can at least focus. When he looks up for the second time, he recognizes him, even though his voice has been more than enough to know it is him (even though he hoped it was just an illusion).

"Ushiwaka? What are you doing here?" he asks as he tries to stand up, but his hand slips under his weight and he ends up falling on his butt for a second time with a yelp.

Wakatoshi watches him for a second, before he finally takes a step towards him and reaches out with his hand, offering it to him. Tooru watches it stopping _so_ close to his body, but never touching it, before his eyes meet the hidden gold color of Wakatoshi's. He really hates the darkness – he can't even figure out what kind of look he is making now that he needs it the most.

The hand is reaching out to him and stays there until he finally curses in the back of his mind and takes it.

When pulling him up, Wakatoshi uses a lot of strength – Tooru doesn't even have to try to use his legs because he's already standing, almost pressed against the spiker's body and under the shelter of his umbrella (Tooru only notices it when he doesn't feel the cold droplets falling on his head).

Once he feels the stability of the cement under his feet again, he leans his full weight on them without thinking and it is the first mistake he makes ever since he stopped running: he puts too much of it on his right leg and, after he feels it wobbling a couple of times, it gives out and he feels himself falling again.

He doesn't even come close to the ground this time. Because Wakatoshi's hand finds its way on his hip, giving him the missing support.

It feels weird, especially after what happened earlier and suddenly it's burning against him – he feels it on his skin even though the damp fabric of his tracksuit is between them. He shouldn't be letting him touch him. He immediately pulls away and takes two, three steps back, and feels the rain again.

"What are you doing here?" he asks again, this time with more decision and with a clearer mind than before. It's not surprise anymore, it is serious curiosity.

Of all places, he had to be right here, right now.

When Tooru is at his weakest.

Wakatoshi doesn't speak and instead reaches him again, nullifying the space between them so Tooru is back under the umbrella. "Shouldn't I be the one to ask you the same question?"

Tooru raises an eyebrow but doesn't move away this time; he doesn't understand.

"You are quite far away from your house." Wakatoshi isn't really sure of where it is, but the zone where he remembers having seen Hajime earlier is all but close to here. Also, Tooru lives close to Aobajōsai, and that too isn't exactly behind the corner.

"What?" Tooru finally looks around himself and the little of his surroundings he is able to see is a place he doesn't recognize. At all. He remembers going past a field, but he doesn't see it in the distance anymore. He feels something clenching in his chest and he swallows.

His attention goes back to his leg – he really should have put on his brace – and he tries to shift his weight on it a couple of times. Needless to say, he feels it more than ever.

 _Dammit._

Wakatoshi observes him the whole time, and this isn't what he ever expected to see in front of him. Usually Tooru would glare at him (yes, he believes he would still do that even after what happened between them), apparently trying to win some kind of staring contest Wakatoshi never quite understood.

But there is something wrong now.

Even someone like Wakatoshi, who had never had the chance to spend enough time with him to get to know him as good as people like Iwaizumi Hajime do, can notice that much.

Those hazel eyes, usually so focused and observant, are now completely empty, looking around and trying to figure out his location. Besides, he is soaked to his bones and even though it is dark, Wakatoshi doesn't fail to notice the light trembling of his hands or the slightly tense posture of his body. "Oikawa, are you alright?"

Tooru turns around, looking almost startled, as if he forgot he is there behind him. "Y-yes." Then he tries to force another smile, and Wakatoshi can't help but feel annoyed by it. "I'm just... tired, I guess." Unconsciously his hands move over his arms, rubbing on them to warm them up.

"You should not have gotten out to run with this weather," Wakatoshi says. He can't help but notice his tracksuit is actually more similar to a hoodie – and he automatically wonders why he didn't put on the jacket he gave him; the fabric it is made of is waterproof and while it doesn't have a hood, it would still keep at least the upper part of his body warm and _dry_

Tooru doesn't really feel fine with being scolded, especially if it is done by Wakatoshi. So he figures he would better leave before he gets even more pissed off. "I should get back home then." He doesn't wait for an answer before he turns around, and perhaps he does it too quickly, because he almost loses his balance again.

It takes him a split second to regain it, but it's more than enough for Wakatoshi to notice it.

Tooru feels the other man's hand on him, grabbing his upper arm, pulling him backwards until his back is pressed against his chest in the briefest of contacts.

"Come with me."

He doesn't need to think twice to pull away from him. "I'm going home," he repeats and starts to walk but after a couple of seconds, be it because he is weak and tired or because his head is a mess, Wakatoshi reaches him from behind and grabs his arm again, pulling him to himself with more force this time.

When they are face to face once more, Wakatoshi's grip on him tightens and Tooru feels a shiver run down his spine; the shelter above his head is back.

"You _are_ coming with me. I live close by and you need to change your clothes and dry yourself up."

Tooru looks at him and, even though his sight is weak, eyelids heavy, it doesn't take anything to realize Wakatoshi's authoritative presence is stronger than his at the moment. Those eyes are piercing into his and Tooru feels both of his legs growing weak.

He pouts, looking away.

"Fine."

So Wakatoshi stands on his side, being careful for the umbrella to be above both their heads before starting to walk. Tooru doesn't look at him, but stays on his side nonetheless – it is nice not to feel the cool water on his skin, even though he's still soaked and it is making it even colder, but it is still better.

Wakatoshi makes him go back on his steps and Tooru can't refuse it now – he won't last another hour like this, so he is just going to let him give him a change of clothes, have a bath to warm himself up and then he is going to be free to return home without any problems.

None of them speaks.

Tooru occasionally grunts when the weight on his leg is too much and it automatically slows him down. Wakatoshi notices and slows down as well, following Tooru's rhythm and, deep down, Tooru appreciates it. He doesn't see how he could possibly follow the spiker when he is in these conditions – not that he'd ever admit it.

The walk takes no more than ten minutes, because one of the two houses Tooru passed next to before belongs to him. It is the biggest one and for now, from the outside it looks bigger than his own.

He doesn't have much time to think about it though, because they are already in front of the entrance and Wakatoshi has pulled his keys out of his pocket and is already unlocking it. Tooru sees no light from the windows, which means nobody except them is going to be home.

Wakatoshi steps in, and Tooru does the same, turning around then to close the door behind him. Wakatoshi turns on the light of the main hall before he takes off his shoes. Tooru imitates his movements and when he straightens up, he finds Wakatoshi's back a couple of steps away.

"Follow me."

Tooru does.

They get into the bathroom, Wakatoshi turns on the lights in here as well and then turns around, opening his mouth to tell him something, but stops as soon as his eyes land on Tooru's face. Tooru sees him staring wordlessly for a couple of seconds before he raises an eyebrow, slightly irritated. "What? Why are you looking at me like this?"

Wakatoshi blinks.

"What happened to your lip?"

Instinctively Tooru brings his hand to it, feeling the corner of his mouth with his fingertips and finds himself grimacing when he finally touching a particular spot. It's kind of humid and burns at the touch. He walks to the sink, trying his best not to lean on his leg and looks into the mirror.

There is a small red cut on his bottom lip.

"Fuck."

It escapes his mouth before he has the chance to control himself and prevent it, but his eyes don't leave the wounded part even for a moment.

It must have happened when Hajime hit him.

He was standing indeed in a rather uncomfortable spot – he almost lost his balance and was definitely too close to him, so the spiker's hand slapped him across his cheek, nose and mouth and probably did the damage then.

But still, he is more than shocked to see it: the hit was sure strong, but he didn't expect it to leave a bruise.

Wakatoshi doesn't have to ask him about the details to know he didn't notice it until this very moment. He takes a step forward and Tooru turns his head to look at him. Gold eyes observe his face, but there is no worry in them (there is no reason to for such a small cut after all), but something else.

"What happened?"

Tooru turns to look back at the mirror, the memory of the slap is still so damn fresh in his mind, and then lowers his head. He remembers Hajime's harsh words, remembers the imperceptible sound of his heart shattering when he told him about what happened and remembers what happened after he so desperately tried to stop him and the disgusted look on his face.

Everything he had feared would happen.

" _You make me sick."_

He clenches his fists, his hands shake as nails dig painfully in his skin.

Wakatoshi only watches him sucking in a breath to regain his composure. "It was an accident," he replies eventually – it takes him a couple of minutes of trying to hide his expression to realize Wakatoshi can see him clearly.

When he doesn't hear anything in response, he looks up and _sees_ it finally. _Wakatoshi doesn't believe him._

Tooru swallows.

But then the spiker sighs and nods and Tooru feels a huge weight being lifted from his shoulders.

Wakatoshi is extremely different from Hajime, maybe even the exact opposite. He doesn't force him or hit him or whatever it takes to make him talk. He believes Tooru is big enough to decide whether he wants to tell him everything or nothing at all and he is only doing what he's supposed to do to restore his well-being. Nothing less, nothing more.

He turns on his heel and approaches the bathtub. He switches on the hot water and pours in some soap before turning around, only to find Tooru looking at him again. "Are you going to manage on your own?"

Tooru tries to smile like he did when they were still out but, even this time, the attempt doesn't really go through. But still. "Yeah."

Wakatoshi nods and gets back to the door, opening it. "I shall prepare dinner, so feel free to take your time." He is already a step outside the door when he stops once again. Tooru waits.

"If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to call me."

Then the door is closed and nothing but the flow of the water can be heard.

Tooru stays still for a while, then glances at the mirror and his lip. It is starting to get warmer in the room (Wakatoshi must have turned on the heat) and Tooru is freezing cold. He needs to get out of those clothes and he does just that, throwing them carelessly on the floor after pulling out of the pocket of his pants his phone - which is wet like everything else, but surprisingly functional - and then turns towards the tub, which he approaches and then steps into, trying his hardest to avoid standing on his leg. It is impossible, so he ends up cursing quite a lot of times until he's finally seated and welcomed by the oh so comfortable warmth on his skin.

He sighs, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Slowly, the muscles of his legs start to relax, and so do the ones of his back, arms and chest and they send away the painful feeling the cold caused them. Tooru decides to dive in with his head as well, to warm up his messy hair and it's such a relief not to feel the icy biting on his skull anymore.

When he leans back for the second time, his body has grown limp, exhausted from the rough treatment it received from its very own possessor. Tooru feels his eyelids growing heavy, but he's afraid to close his eyes. What if those memories flash back in front of him?

Hajime yelling at him.

Pushing him away.

Slapping him.

Tooru's chest tightens and his hands tremble again, despite the hotness of the water.

He should be anywhere but here right now, most likely chasing after Hajime, to try and apologize and beg for his forgiveness. He should have told him sooner, he shouldn't have been such a coward – but above all, he shouldn't have been so weak to let it all happen and just watch as his whole world crumbled down and slipped through his fingers.

He weakly starts to move his hands over his body, washing every part of himself with tired care. He grabs the bottle of Wakatoshi's shampoo and looks at it. _Mint, huh?_ It somehow suits him.

When he feels soapy enough, he gets under the water with his head again and bends his legs to fit in so even his face is under the surface.

But when he sits back up again and stretches his legs, his breath hitches in his throat, eyes grow wide.

It has been a while since he last felt _it._

He immediately looks at its source, gaze landing on his trembling, red knee. Now that it got warmed up, the muscle has relaxed too much to support it and the adrenaline from his run disappeared, he finds himself sitting paralyzed in the water for long minutes, full of breathtaking pain.

Going out to run like that was a bad idea.

He really is an idiot.

Maybe, no... _Definitely_ , he should get out of the tub and put some ice on it and then put on some dry clothes and then get home. He doesn't really want to owe Wakatoshi in any way, but still... He will have to make this sacrifice if he wants to sleep in his warm bed tonight.

So, with the ache in his chest and the burning pain in his leg, he tries to stand up.

"Fuck!"

His first attempt is a failure. He is unable to bend his leg properly without the piercing ache that makes him grunt and makes tears threaten to come out, let along pull himself up to stand on it even briefly like he was able to do before he got in.

He takes in a couple of deep breaths and then tries again. This time he doesn't manage to bend it either; his body just doesn't listen to what he is telling it to do. He glares at his own leg and then puts his hands on it, trying to massage it slightly and hoping it'll help him a little. It does the exact opposite, and hurts even more after his ministrations.

He curses again and then opts to use his arms to help himself, because even if he manages to stand on his good leg, how is he going to step out without using the other and falling?

The plan B isn't actually simple either – well, usually it is; but this is not usually; it is extremely slippery and his body is exhausted to do such a usually simple task.

The warmth that felt so comfortable a little more than a minute ago is now turning into his greatest enemy, working through his muscles and making them relax more than necessary.

He is almost, _almost_ tempted to call Wakatoshi, but he doesn't. He won't embarrass himself like this in front of him. If it were anyone else, Hajime, anybody, _Hajime_ – heck, even Tobio, he would've been out by now. But Wakatoshi? No, he is not going to call him. Ever.

He tries one last time – he must get out of there even if it kills him – and finally is able to shift on his knees, even if not without pain. It kicks the breath out of his lungs and he takes himself a moment to rest before continuing.

"Oikawa, I have brought you a change of clothes. I am coming in." There is a knock on the door and before Tooru has the time to let his voice out to tell him not to come in, Wakatoshi is already inside the room.

Hazel eyes meet gold and they stare at each other for what feels like eternity. Tooru manages to find a way to stay balanced on his arms and doesn't even bother to cover himself up in front of him – he already saw him naked anyway. He knows that if he stays like this, his arms are going to give out without him being able to stop it. He doesn't have the strength to get out and hopes Wakatoshi will just leave those clothes somewhere and leave him until he finds a way.

It doesn't happen.

Wakatoshi lays the clothes next to the sink and then, after one last, long glance, he finally approaches Tooru, grabbing a large bath towel from the pile he holds on a nearby stool and is on his side in less than a couple of seconds.

Only then he sees the trembling of the setter's arms.

"Allow me to help you."

Tooru glares at him, eyes wide. "I can manage!"

Wakatoshi's scowl isn't enough to make him change his mind. "Stop behaving like a child."

"No!"

Wakatoshi snorts and wraps the towel around the setter's shoulders without his approval, before lowering down and sliding an arm behind his back and under his right arm. Tooru struggles, but Wakatoshi's embrace tightens. "Enough now. And hold onto me."

The tone of his voice makes Tooru's eyes widen. He won't be able to send him away until he has his way apparently. After huffing out in frustration, he finally wraps his arms around Wakatoshi's shoulders, being careful not to drop the towel around him.

Immediately, he feels himself being raised up gently and carefully and _it doesn't hurt_. Well, it doesn't hurt until he is forced to bend his leg to step out. Even if there is no weight on it, he still has to use his muscles and his tendon doesn't really appreciate it.

He can't hold in a grimace and a hiss.

Wakatoshi doesn't comment on it, but he does notice indeed. He only grips on him tighter and raises him up even more, shifting all the weight he possibly can onto himself.

When finally out of the tub, Tooru sighs in relief and pulls away from the taller boy, instinctively wrapping the huge towel around himself so it doesn't fall off. Wakatoshi's hand lingers on his back a little longer than it should, but that feeling is gone soon as well. Wakatoshi moves a step away and points at the tub.

"Sit down and let me see your knee."

Tooru shakes his head. He is not going to let him touch it.

"It's not needed."

Maybe he should have come with something better than that, like _"I don't want you to,"_ or something different than "it's not needed" because it _is_ needed. And they both know that. The glare he receives from Wakatoshi confirms it.

So he sits down on the edge of the tub and looks away.

He doesn't see Wakatoshi turning around and opening the cupboard under the sink and then looking inside of it before pulling out some bandages and some anti-inflammatory gel, before standing up and approaching Tooru again. The setter still isn't looking at him.

Wakatoshi sighs quietly and then kneels down in front of him, putting himself in Tooru's view and watching those hazel eyes widening before finally focusing on his leg.

Tooru watches his hands raising up and getting closer to his still humid skin before those calloused fingers finally come in contact with it. He sucks in a breath, both for the pain and for the sight he is witnessing. Ushijima Wakatoshi _on his knees_ in front of him.

His hands run over his knee, then on its underside and then on his thigh, and even though it is tickling, Tooru is almost hypnotized by it; the way it feels on his skin is weird, but not unpleasant.

He remembers that night in the storage room once again and there is no way for him to stop the blood rushing to his cheeks.

Why is he thinking about it now?

Wakatoshi makes him spread his legs slightly and moves forward in between them, so his hands can move freely over the red skin of his right leg and examine it the best way he can. Tooru closes his eyes. It hurts so much, dammit.

"Oikawa."

His voice recalls him from his thoughts. His eyes fly open, only to find clear gold staring into them. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

"Why is your knee brace not here?" Wakatoshi asks quietly, and Tooru can only focus on the warm hand that's still on him. His eyes move to the messy pile of his wet clothes and figures Wakatoshi must have seen it's missing. Well, there's no point in lying to him now. He's not an idiot.

"I forgot to put it on."

"You forgot?"

"Yeah..."

Wakatoshi shakes his head in disapproval. "How irresponsible of you."

Tooru rolls his eyes and clicks with his tongue before looking away once again. How familiar. "I don't need you too to scold me," he mumbles, crossing his arms.

Wakatoshi gives him a look. "Me _too_?"

Tooru shrugs. Hajime always does, but Wakatoshi has never hanged around with them to know that much. Not like he's going to tell him his name – it is none of his business. But since he said that already, he should at least clarify it a bit. "It's not like you're the only one."

Wakatoshi understands.

Iwaizumi Hajime.

He turns to his side, grabs the small box of gel and pours some of it on his fingers. He rubs them a couple of times to warm it up and then smears it over the red skin in front of him, making Tooru hiss at the still too cold sensation. "Fuck."

Wakatoshi glances up, sees the pained expression on his face. "Whoever scolded you before did a poor job," because if it had been done better, he wouldn't be battered at his house like this. Not that Wakatoshi minds. Sure, it would be better if he were here on his own will and possibly healthy.

His statement seems to piss off Tooru, who immediately glares, gritting his teeth and when Wakatoshi realizes he's about to yell something at him, he presses his fingers against a certain spot around his knee, making Tooru yelp instead. Tooru knows he did it on purpose, the expression on his face is more than a confirm, but in the end he decides not to say anything.

Even if Wakatoshi's was an open criticism to Hajime.

When the gel is finally absorbed by his skin, Wakatoshi reaches out for the bandages and then slowly starts to wrap them around the damaged spot and once again, Tooru can't help but look at his movements, his cheeks slowly heating up from where they left from (he tells himself it is because of the hot water still in the tub behind him and the heat Wakatoshi turned on previously).

Wakatoshi is careful, _extremely_ careful. And gentle.

The way he moves his hands, the way he sets those bandages, so tidily and _perfectly_ , as if he had already done it before. There is no way he doesn't know what he is doing, but Tooru won't ask him, even though he doesn't recall ever hearing of Wakatoshi getting hurt. He remembers when Hajime did this same thing, when he hurt his knee in middle school. And even when he sprained his ankle in the beginning of this school year.

He has always been good at it.

But Wakatoshi is too.

The delicacy of the movements of his hands isn't the one of one of the top three spikers in Japan, that can break wrists if the ball he spikes is received incorrectly and create desperation in the hearts of every team he plays against. With those bandages, he almost seems harmless (if it weren't for all the times Tooru's heart was shattered too).

When Wakatoshi fixes them so Tooru is able to stand up without making them fall or misplace them, he gets up on his feet and picks up the clothes Tooru was wearing before. He hangs them over his arm and then takes one last thing from under the sink; a bottle of disinfectant, Tooru notices. He then takes a cotton ball as well and hands them to the setter, waiting until he finally takes them.

Tooru holds them tightly and then gives him a confused look.

"Your lip," is all Wakatoshi tells him and then he turns towards the door. "I shall go and hang these to dry. When you are done here, come and join me in the kitchen." Once again, he doesn't wait for a reply before he exits.

Tooru stays there for about a minute, just staring at the closed door, before he finally stands up. It still hurts, but the tight support is helping him to maintain his balance and makes it more tolerable than before. It is much better, just like when his brace is on. He limps to the sink, where Wakatoshi left his clothes and then turns to look at the mirror, eyeing his lip once again. He quickly pours some of the pink liquid of the small bottle on the cotton and then presses it against the bruised spot.

He winces, but he can bear with it. It is better to clean it up anyway – even though maybe he should have been more gentle. Fortunately, it not being too big of a cut doesn't force him to hold it on for a long time – a minute is more than enough.

He leaves everything there so Wakatoshi can put it away later and focuses on the clothes next to him. His hands take them carefully. There is a black t-shirt, a pair of gray sweatpants and purple briefs underneath them. That will most certainly do.

He lets the towel over his shoulders fall on the floor and then puts on the underwear without even thinking twice. He walks to the stool with the towels to grab a smaller one, which he uses to rub his wet hair with before he puts on the rest of Wakatoshi's clothes. When he is fully dressed, he can't prevent himself from looking into the mirror.

It is weird.

There is only a five centimeters of difference in their heights, yet the difference in their muscle build is definitely more noticeable. The t-shirt is extremely large for him around his shoulders and chest, even though the length is just about right. It exposes his collarbones more than it should. But well, it is only for tonight, until he gets home and changes into something else.

The waistband of the pants is elastic and fits his hips perfectly, even though they are slightly too long – a centimeter or two, nothing too much.

Tooru hates to admit it, but these clothes are incredibly comfortable and warm.

He shakes his head before his thoughts wander off to somewhere else and decides to clean up the mess he made when Wakatoshi pulled him out, drying everything up around the tub, opening the window above it and letting then the water flow away. He hangs the towels on a nearby small clotheshorse, obviously put there for them to dry and then looks around. Everything seems to be on its place, except for the gel and the disinfectant Wakatoshi has to put where he holds them.

He takes in a few deep breaths and gets ready to step out of the room.

He finds himself in the hall from before and follows the way they used to come to the bathroom before. He opens the door and finds himself in the main hall, right in front of the entrance, and when he hears the noise of plates coming from the door on his right, he knows it is where he is supposed to go.

When he steps in, he finds Wakatoshi at the table, setting it for them, he flinches. He doesn't say a word, because Wakatoshi raises his head and looks at him. "You can sit down. It is ready."

Tooru licks his lip and immediately grimaces. He totally forgot about the bitter taste of the disinfectant on his lip. _Oh, well._

He slowly limps to one of the chairs and sits on it carefully, trying not to bend his bad leg at all and surprisingly he manages to do just that. Immediately he finds in front of himself a bowl of rice and vegetables and also some grilled fish. The portion's really big - not something he is used to. At all.

He remembers the nauseating feeling in his stomach from before and now that his body is grown so tired from before, it's back again. His eyes move up and in front of himself, only to find Wakatoshi sitting at the opposite side of the table, a bowl of rice and chopsticks already in his hands.

"What is it, Oikawa?"

Tooru remembers Hajime and how he shouldn't be here. The alcohol taste on his lip is sure to remind him every time his tongue comes in the briefest of contacts with it. "I'm not hungry." He didn't expect so much food to be prepared for him and he is not sure he would feel alright if he ate it. He would owe him even more than he already does.

" _Oikawa._ "

"What?"

"Eat."

"I told you I'm not hungry."

Wakatoshi puts down his bowl, straightens up in his chair and gives him that particular look that makes Tooru so mad every time he sees it. It's that scolding, _I am superior than you_ look he always gives him when he knows he is going to win. Well, he is not going to this time.

"You have been running in the cold and for a long time. You need to restore your energy, so eat."

"If I were hungry I would eat, but I'm not!"

A moment of silence follows.

And there is that staring contest all over again, Wakatoshi realizes. Tooru's glaring isn't something he wants to put up with too much, but it seems he just doesn't want to understand. So be it.

"Ushiwaka-chan, I-"

His stomach growls.

Hazel eyes widen and he looks down, cheeks turn to a dusty pink color due to the embarrassment. Wakatoshi knows he has won again. "Eat."

Tooru sucks in a breath and finally grabs the damn bowl and chopsticks. It is for his own good, his own body is telling him that. He finally picks up some rice, eyes glancing one last time at Wakatoshi, who is already eating his portion.

When it is in his mouth, he takes his time to taste it for good.

And dammit.

It is good.

It is _so_ good.

He starts to eat slowly but constantly, almost amazed at how the dishes, as simple as they may be to prepare, are a completely different story from how he prepares it. Or how his mother prepares it. Or how Hajime does.

He likes when Hajime cooks for him. His food always tasted better than anyone's, even if he only prepares simple things – Tooru likes it. He definitely likes it.

As much as he doesn't like to admit it, _this_ is better. He looks at Wakatoshi without saying a word, but the spiker isn't looking at him and instead has his eyes closed as he eats his food slowly. Tooru doesn't know if he should say something, because this is too awkward and yet, he's so busy filling his mouth before he can even manage to swallow what he is already chewing.

He has never been a frantic eater, but this time he can't stop. He doesn't know if he should blame it to the overwork he put his body through or the lack of control he seems to have every time he is in front of Wakatoshi, but it is definitely stronger than him.

Before he realizes it, he is finished.

His stomach feels full and some of his energy seems to be back. He lays the bowl of rice next to the plate where the grilled mackerel was lying before.

Hazel eyes look up and Wakatoshi is looking at him this time.

Tooru observes his expression and finds it odd; the always-so-strict look is still on his face and Tooru doesn't know why, but it seems much softer than usual. Maybe it is because his lips are curved up slightly. Tooru swallows; he must be so satisfied with himself.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Water," Tooru replies dryly. His throat has been sore for a while now that he thinks about it.

Wakatoshi stands up from his seat, picks up the two empty bowls and the plates and puts them in the sink before he reaches up into one of the cupboards to pull out two glasses. He walks to the fridge and takes a bottle of water as well and then pours it into them.

Tooru doesn't hesitate to take his one when Wakatoshi hands it to him. He drinks it down in one shot – he never thought he would be so thirsty, but he didn't drink anything ever since Hajime came to his house earlier.

His head lowers after he lays the now empty glass on the table in front of himself.

He shouldn't be here.

"You can go to the living room while I wash the dishes. I shall join you as soon as I am finished here."

He should go.

Wakatoshi looks at him, waiting for a reply, but Tooru just nods and stands up. His limping towards the door is extremely evident and when he reaches it, his leg gives out and he ends up hitting his shoulder against its frame. He curses.

"Oikawa-"

"I'm fine."

He gets out without adding anything else and Wakatoshi watches until he is out of sight.

Tooru takes good five minutes to reach the living room, even if it is immediately next door to the kitchen and when he sees the couch, it's the most heavenly sight he could possibly have in front of him at the moment. His body is begging him to sit down, so he is going to do it, rest a couple more minutes and then leave.

He lets himself fall on the soft cushions and then grabs the remote control from the coffee table and turns on the TV. He pulls his good leg up to his chest, while he lets the bad one stay normally – it already hurts enough when it's stretched so it'd be worse to bend it like the other one to make it hurt even more.

There is the drama he adores to watch with Hajime on TV. He usually teases him when he wants to change channel because _"come on, how can you even watch this dumb shit?"_ and it usually ends up with them laughing like idiots before they retreat to Tooru's or Hajime's room.

The heartache in his chest is back and it's stronger than before and right now, Tooru doesn't know if it is that or his leg that hurts the most. The pulling of his tired muscles sure doesn't help him to feel better.

He hears footsteps in the main hall. The sound dies and a door is closed and then they're back a minute or two later and are approaching the living room. Tooru closes his eyes, letting out a sigh – here he comes.

When he opens them, he can't help but feel slightly startled.

Wakatoshi is standing in front of him, a glass of water in one hand and a small, white box and a bag Tooru supposes contains ice in the other. Tooru tilts his head to the side in confusion, until Wakatoshi hands both of the contents to him.

"What is this?"

"Painkillers. They should help you through the night," the spiker explains.

Tooru forces a small smirk on his face.

"Are you trying to drug me, Ushiwaka-chan?"

Wakatoshi blinks, moving away slightly. And then he sighs again. "If you do not trust me and prefer to bear with the pain, feel free to do so."

Tooru rolls his eyes at the answer. There really is no joking with him, is there?

He grabs the box from his hand, opens it and pulls out two small pills.

"I believe one is enough."

Tooru scoffs. "I don't think you've ever had an injury if you say so." And with that, he shoves them in his mouth, grabs the glass of water being offered to him and drinks it down until it is empty. He gives it back, hazel meeting gold again. Wakatoshi seems rather bothered by his words, but Tooru knows more than well that one isn't enough. It's never been.

Wakatoshi still doesn't move away and Tooru looks at the bag of ice in his hand. "What?"

"It may take a while before they start to be effective, so have this until they do."

Tooru wants to reach out for it, but before he has the chance to, Wakatoshi already puts it on his leg and all Tooru has to do is to replace the spiker's hand with his own. The cool sensation on the irritated skin, even though there are the sweatpants and bandages in between, is pure bliss. Tooru throws his head back with a sigh.

He feels the cushions shift as Wakatoshi sits on the opposite side of the large couch, completely silent as he focuses on the screen in front of him. Tooru sees him raise an eyebrow and somehow feels stupid for choosing this drama to watch with him. As long as it's Hajime, it's fine. But with Wakatoshi...

He feels slightly embarrassed.

The feeling goes away as soon as it comes as tiredness slowly overcomes him. The painkillers are finally starting to have the desired effect, even if the feeling is still there, but it's much more bearable now.

He pulls his other leg up.

The drama ends, and a movie starts instead and Tooru is already turned on his side and leaned against the back of the couch in a half-sitting position with his legs up and his feet a couple of centimeters further from Wakatoshi's leg. Wakatoshi doesn't look at him, except for a couple of glances whenever he feels him shift. Tooru knows about them, because his eyes aren't looking where they should.

He observes Wakatoshi's form, so still and stiff and awfully perfectly postured it is almost scary. But even when he looks like this, he was still able to treat him gently (maybe even too much; Tooru hoped for him to be rougher so he could at least hold a grudge against him for it) when he pulled him out of the bathtub and, even though he behaved authoritatively when ordering him to come with him or let him see his knee or eat, Tooru can't hold it against him.

It is nothing that Hajime wouldn't do if he were here instead of him.

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning more into the soft fabric of the couch and takes a minute to look at the clothes he is wearing. Sure, the shirt may be a little big for him, but in the end it fits just like everything else, and Tooru would be too much of a fool even for himself if he even tried to say he isn't feeling comfortable.

Just like his jacket.

Tooru clenches his fists unconsciously. _Dammit._

If he only were less sleepy, he would have already pushed those thoughts out of his head and maybe it is because of the painkillers, but he is definitely feeling weaker than he should be. That tiny part of his mind that holds some kind of interest for the man in front of himself is starting to drive him crazy and Tooru hates that he can't fight it and put it in its place.

He is screwed.

"Ushiwaka-chan?"

Wakatoshi looks at him.

 _Oh well..._ It is too late now, isn't it?

Tooru lowers his head.

"Thank you for dinner," he mumbles, but it is perfectly audible for both of them. "It was... good. Really good."

If he only were looking up in that moment, he would see golden eyes widen for a split second before returning back to normal. Wakatoshi shifts slightly and Tooru feels his eyes shutting close.

"There is no need to thank me," because it is what anyone would do. Anyone who _cares_ about him at least.

The spiker now watches as Tooru's body grows limper and limper and he knows he is about to fall asleep right there. However, being the condition his body is in not really the best one, Wakatoshi figures it may not be healthy for him to stay where he is.

He moves closer to him.

"Oikawa."

"Mhm?"

"Let me accompany you to my bedroom. You will hurt your back if you sleep here."

Tooru's eyes fly open and his body stiffens. He raises his head, looking at the man who just stood up in disbelief. "No, wait!" Although it's hard for him right now, he stands up abruptly, flinching when his leg gives out for a moment before he stabilizes himself.

Wakatoshi blinks.

Tooru shakes his head before continuing. "I have to go home. It's late and I have school tomorrow," _and I can't say here; with you. Alone._ He doesn't say that last part though – it would be one more weakness of his to be exposed when he's so vulnerable he won't be able to defend himself from that look.

He takes a couple of steps back, trying to get further from him.

It has not even been a second and Wakatoshi is already a couple of inches away from him. Tooru looks away and bites the healthy side of his bottom lip. "Let me borrow your umbrella and I'll be going. I'll return it to you as soon as I can," he says and when Wakatoshi doesn't reply, he looks up again.

His breath hitches in his throat.

"Oikawa."

The way his name is slipping from his lips makes his body tremble. And Oikawa can't help but wonder why it is happening now. Of all the years they've been rivals to each other, why does it have to be now? It is the last chance for him to escape the spiker's grip and yet, his body isn't moving.

"JUSTIFY""Let me leave."

"No."

"I want to leave!"

Wakatoshi sighs, then turns around and walks towards the giant window of the living room and then removes the curtain covering the outside. "Look."

Tooru walks next to him and _looks._

It is raining even stronger than before and it seems even the wind started to blow a while ago (he could hear the noise in the background), which means the umbrella wouldn't even be much of a use to him if he gets out. But still, he can't stay here.

"I can have another bath when I'm at home," he mumbles and immediately feels Wakatoshi's gaze on him. He looks up, without fear or embarrassment anymore and they stare at each other for a while. Until Wakatoshi turns his head so he's facing the outside again. "It will take you about forty minutes to reach your house if you run. With this weather it is going to take at least the double of that time if you walk and, seeing the condition of your leg, it will take much more than that. Maybe an hour and a half, if you're lucky," explains Wakatoshi and Tooru stiffens.

Fuck.

"It doesn't matter, I-"

"Do not be a fool, Oikawa."

Tooru clicks with his tongue. He hates it when he is right; the painkiller might be working right now, but if he strains his injury further it will be useless, and he can't afford himself to collapse in the middle of the street – no one would find him until morning and that would not be good.

Even a fool like Tooru can get that much.

He sucks in a breath. "Tch."

He doesn't meet the spiker's eyes, even though they have been glued on him ever since he scolded him. He clenches his fists and narrows his eyes and is grateful to everything he has and hasn't that Wakatoshi isn't touching him.

Still, at the moment, _he_ is the strongest and Tooru realizes it would be futile to resist.

"Fine then."

His words are a mere whisper, almost buried in the sound of the violent droplets on the outside, but he knows he heard him. And may he be damned for accepting, but he doesn't want to spend the last two weeks of his third year locked in his room with a flu.

Tomorrow he will get up early, get home, change into his uniform and then go to school. Like every other day.

He feels Wakatoshi's hand brush his shoulder before he walks away.

"Follow me."

Tooru hesitates, turning around to look at the tall figure walking towards the door. Wakatoshi stops at the threshold and turns his head, glancing at the setter from the corner of his eye.

Tooru pouts. He shouldn't be here. _Really._

"Fine, fine, Ushiwaka-chan."

But still-

.

\- he follows


	6. Stay Here and Protect Me

Tooru looks around himself curiously; a good part of his tiredness has gone away the moment they stepped into the room.

Into Wakatoshi's room.

Tooru can't really say he imagined it like this, but he can't say did not either. It is much bigger than his own, with a futon right under the window opposite the door, a big wardrobe on its left and a large desk, low like Tooru's, on the right with the cushion to sit on.

Wakatoshi immediately heads to the futon, unaware of the setter's attention towards the room, and unrolls it before preparing it for Tooru to lie down later.

Tooru glances at him for a moment before focusing on his surroundings again. Everything is extremely tidy and put in order, nothing like in his or Hajime's room. Well, he admits he has gotten better at keeping everything in place, but he still gets scolded by his mother at times.

Ushijima is just on another level. Even at this.

He walks to the shelves, so neat and completely dustless, and tries to be as collected and as less curios as possible - he doesn't really want Wakatoshi to see how much he wants to know about him. His eyes immediately fall onto the shelf above his desk, containing all the 'Best Wing Spiker Award'-s he managed to get during his middle school and high school volleyball career. There are twelve of them in total, which means he managed to get the prize twice a year, both at the Interhigh and Spring High. And he managed to get it for six consecutive years.

Tooru sucks in a breath.

 _Damn him._

He chooses not to look at the prizes he brought home from National championships, which are set above those. He would get pissed off even more.

Tooru really hates geniuses, but Wakatoshi is more than that, a combination of genius, skills and hard word, always taking his team to victory through all the obstacles in their way and never letting them down, showing them the world of Nationals and other extremely strong teams Tooru's only ever seen on TV and magazines.

Just what is it like to be there?

What is it like to play _with him_?

Tooru can't help but feel bitter – he is never going to be able to see that.

His eyes wander on the shelf above that, and there is a huge collection of DVD-s on it; all of them are volleyball matches. There are international games, college matches (lots of them are of Tokyo's teams) and even high school matches. Tooru can clearly see all the Aobajōsai ones, both against Shiratorizawa and also against other teams. The boxes are even of a light aqua color, the same of their uniform, and are perfectly distinguishable from the others.

So after all, he _does_ follow his matches.

Tooru doesn't know why there is a weird feeling in his chest at the thought. And he would like to tease him about it, but he does the same, watches every team he's interested in to get to know it, to learn about it. So he's going to keep his mouth shut this time.

"Oikawa."

He turns around, immediately pushing everything away from his head. "What is it?"

"It is ready."

Tooru looks down at the queen-sized futon, on which Wakatoshi put two pillows which look extremely soft from Tooru's perspective and a heavy blanket which only seems to be waiting for him to get under it - Tooru doesn't know if it is because he has tired or if he just wants to finally be comfortable and get the sleep he needs so bad.

He blinks a couple of times, but it only adds to his crave.

He doesn't even see Wakatoshi moving away from his spot and finds him in front of himself, only a step away from him, so close he can feel his warm breath on his lips. He looks up, meeting those golden orbs but not really seeing them. Just when did he lose all his focus?

"You are tired," Wakatoshi speaks before moving away, walking to the closet. "You can lie down, I shall go and have a bath." With that, he opens it and pulls out a pair of sweatpants, similar to the ones he brought to Tooru and a white, cotton t-shirt. Then he looks at Tooru one last time, before nodding slightly when the setter says nothing and getting out of the room.

When finally alone, Tooru decides it is enough with snooping around and finally falls on his knees in front of his want for relaxing and gets onto the soft mattress Wakatoshi prepared for him. It feels really good, he must admit it, but it is also kind of weird.

Wakatoshi sleeps here every night; Tooru knows, because he can feel the faint smell of mint of his shampoo, and now he is here instead and- _God_ , it is calming his nerves more than he could have imagined. He only thinks about it the second after an image of him held by those arms flashes through his eyes.

Are they going to sleep _together_?

Tooru shakes his head. _No, it's not going to happen._

The guest futon.

 _Right, the guest futon._

He looks around himself a little more, still not wanting to lie down, even because now he can take advantage of the fact that Wakatoshi isn't here. There is a volley ball next to him and he is almost tempted to take it in his hands and toss it in the air for a bit, but he is too tired for that and would most likely end up with it landing on his face, despite his skills and reflexes.

He searches for something else and finds some magazines behind it and decides to give them a shot – it would be beyond amusing if he found porn in Ushiwaka-chan's room. He would not let him live that one down. He smirks, already imagining the scene, and grabs the whole pile, bringing it closer and it doesn't take him even ten seconds to realize they are all volleyball-related magazines. He sighs - it seems there is going to be nothing of his evil plan.

Oh well, it is not like he really expected to find anything.

It is Wakatoshi after all.

He grabs the one on top of the pile, eyeing the cover for a moment, before realizing it is an old issue, released in the beginning of his third year of high school. It is very familiar - he immediately opens it and starts to go through the pages until he stops, eyes growing wide.

His interview.

He remembers giving it some time before the Interhigh started, when the reporters found out he was going to be Seijō's captain.

 _Ushiwaka read that?_

" _My teammates are everything to me. I won't let them down."_

He remembers saying those words as if it happened yesterday.

And yet, he let them down and he hasn't even stopped by the gym ever since Wakatoshi messed him up. He can't help but feel bad about it, but right now, he just can't face them after what he did. _I'm such a coward,_ he thinks with a grimace.

He decides to go through the rest of the magazine; there is Shiratorizawa as well, an article on Tobio and his choice to go to Karasuno and even about Date Tech, who received some strong first-years. Tooru smiles, remembering them all. They were such a pain to beat, but he had fun.

Minutes pass by without him realizing, and soon it has been half an hour since Wakatoshi left him in the room and the door opens again. Tooru looks up and finds the figure of the spiker coming in, dressed in the clothes he has brought with himself, damp hair and a towel wrapped around his neck.

Gold eyes widen slightly.

"Why are you still awake?"

Tooru blinks a couple of times to get adjusted to the sight in front of him, before his lips curve into a small smile as he raises the magazine in his hands. "I lost track of time reading this."

He shifts slightly, crossing his legs and watching as Wakatoshi approaches him and lowers on his legs so they are facing each other. "You are quite exhausted, so lie down properly." He waits until Tooru adjusts himself and pulls the warm blanket over himself before continuing. "You forgot your phone next to the sink," he tells him, laying the device next to the setter. Tooru flinches and thanks him quietly; he really forgot about it. His eyes follow Wakatoshi's movements as he grabs the magazine, putting it back onto the pile Tooru took it from and then stands up.

"I was waiting for you to lie down as well to go to sleep."

Tooru has never been able to sleep when he is at someone else's house and there are people awake and walking around. Even when he spends the night at Hajime's, he is always the last one to fall asleep because he can't relax if his mother or father are walking down the hall to get into one of the rooms.

He doesn't know why, but it is a habit that has never gotten away.

Wakatoshi looks down at him, finally understanding why he is still awake now, and nods. "Good. Goodnight then, Oikawa." With that, he turns around towards the door, ready to leave.

Tooru's breath hitches in his throat.

"Wait, what do you mean goodnight? Where are you going?" he asks confused. He hasn't prepared himself a futon where to sleep, nor did he even give a sign of wanting to lie down next to him.

"I will be in the living room if you need me."

Tooru doesn't understand. He is going to sleep on the couch after he told him not to? He tilts his head to the side, gripping the covers over his body unexpectedly tightly. "Can't you pull out the guest futon? I mean, it'll be a little cramped, but we can fit it just fine if we move the desk back a bit."

Wakatoshi shrugs, turning his head to the side but still facing the door with his body and Tooru can't see it well and is forced only to stare at his back.

"I am afraid I don't have a guest futon.

"What do you mean you don't have it?" Everybody has it. It is some kind of unspoken rule to have one - what if a guest comes like today? He can't possibly be sleeping on the couch every time someone comes to visit him, can he?

"I have never needed one. Nobody ever comes here."

Tooru's eyes widen, mouth gaping open but no sound comes out even though he tries.

Before he knows it, Wakatoshi is out of the room and he is alone again; he stares at the door, not really knowing what to do. That damn little part of him is being joined by his common sense, and they're all telling him to get up and run after him to ask him to stay – it is his own house after all; he should be sleeping in his own bed and not on the couch and, well...

He doesn't find the strength in the end; today has been really shit even though it started good. Wakatoshi turned off the lights on his way out, so he doesn't even have to stand up to do it himself.

He lies down properly, his head finally comes in contact with the soft fabric of the pillow and his eyes shut, expecting darkness to come and take him into dreamland.

It should be darkness in front of him, and yet it is not.

 _And, well..._

His memories aren't held back by any boundaries or presences now and explode in his mind like the most dangerous of bombs, and everything, every painful part of it, is just... Hajime.

" _You make me sick."_

And, well... He wanted Wakatoshi to stay even because of that. If he could focus on him, maybe he could deal with it until the next morning. And yet, he let him go out and there is no way he is going to get him back. He can't sink there just to be refused or even taken advantage of – he is not ready for that too. Even though Wakatoshi has never showed the want to do that.

So he sticks with it.

He rolls over in the futon, trying desperately to find a position which is going to be able to help him to fall asleep but he just can't. All the relax and comfort he managed to find in the bathtub and couch seems to be gone as soon as he was left on his own.

" _You make me sick."_

Hajime's voice rings in his ears like the loudest of bells. His eyes fly open and Hajime's face is right in front of them, embittered, disappointed, _angry_ ; and yet, still so indescribable and unknown it makes Tooru's chest hurt.

He knows he did something wrong. He should have told him everything, should have explained him everything before he got mad about the discovery he made on his own. But he failed at that, so badly - he even wanted to cover it up by returning the jacket to Wakatoshi on the day they should have met and God, was he wrong to think that.

He is an idiot.

He raises his hand slowly, moving it over his own cheek and then lowering it to his wounded lip. He winces slightly at the pain when he presses his fingertip against it and remembers Hajime yelling at him from the bottom of the stairs.

" _Don't you even dare to follow me, understood?!"_

He remembers not following him.

He regrets not following him.

He should have, even if Hajime was- _is_ angry, even if he punched him once, twice... thrice more...

Tomorrow he is going to make up for it; he will go to school, find him and talk to him, explain everything ( _what is there to explain?_ ), apologize. Apologize countless times. And insist on it even he ignores him, even if he pushes him away, kicks him until he bleeds and screams and-

Even if he-

Tooru sucks in a breath, his eyes close again.

"Iwa-chan hates me..."

He brings both of his hands to cover his eyes, and finds wetness on his skin. He hadn't even realized he started to cry and now that it dawns on him, it doesn't stop anymore. He bursts and cries, without being able to stop. The pain the rain failed to wash away and that is unstoppable even by the highest dose of painkillers is overwhelming him and the lack of strength he currently is affected by is making him a victim.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

He rolls over for the umpteenth time, his hands now buried in his hair, pulling at his brown locks angrily, trying to replace the unbearable emotional pain with the physical one but it just _doesn't_ work.

It doesn't work.

His body gives out eventually.

"Iwa-chan."

It grows limp and weak and he blesses the blanket wrapping it in the warmth it brings with itself.

"Iwa-chan..."

His hands fall onto the mattress.

"Hajime..."

He falls asleep eventually, with tears in his eyes, his best friend's name on his lips and with a last glint of hope to have a peaceful slumber.

* * *

" _Iwa-chan, are you awake?"_

 _The question is so usual and never unexpected. Tooru sits up, leaning his chin on the edge of the bed where Hajime is sleeping, facing him with his back._

" _No." The answer is a mumble, but in the silence of the room it is perfectly audible for Tooru._

" _But you just answered me," his voice is weak, trembling. A sniffle follows right after._

 _Hajime knows he just woke up because of a nightmare; he knows, because he heard him crying and screaming and rolling around between the blankets until he jolted and awakened._

 _Tooru watches as Hajime moves under the sheets, closer to the wall to make enough space for him. "Come on up."_

 _Despite the fear and the most horrible dream he has ever had, he crawls up next to him with the last bit of strength, pressing himself against his side. Hajime never says anything about it and instead wraps his arm around his shoulder and pulls him closer._

 _Tooru falls asleep soon after, with no memory of the frightening feeling which hovered over his heart until just a while ago._

* * *

" _Nee, Iwa-chan?"_

" _What is it?"_

 _It is the first day of their fourth year of grade school and they are both standing in front of the closed doors of the gym. Hajime is looking at him with a raised eyebrow and Tooru just smiles, taking a step to the side until their shoulders are bumping._

" _Are you going to be_ my _spiker when I join the team?"_

 _The question comes easy to him and is holding the most meaningful wish the setter has ever made. Because if he says yes, they are going to create a stronger bound than they have ever had. He watches as Hajime smiles, smiles brighter than he has ever seen him and his hand grabs Tooru's._

" _Of course I am!"_

* * *

 _The ball is received perfectly and flies right over him and he watches as it reaches his fingers._

" _Over here!"_

 _Hajime._

 _He tosses it gracefully and it is perfect. It reaches the voice which called for it at the right height at the right speed and is hit just as perfect and strong and it brings them a point closer to victory._

 _Tooru laughs, his eyes shine when he runs and reaches the spiker._

" _You did it, Iwa-chan!"_

 _Tooru feels a warm hand on his back when Hajime is finally next to him. "We did it."_

* * *

" _I want to go to Kitagawa Daiichi, Iwa-chan!" he tells him. Hajime raises his head, eyes moving away from the English sentences he is writing._

 _Tooru just smiles. "They have a strong team and I really want to play there." He stands up from his seat, opposite of Hajime and walks around it, crouching down until he is at the spiker's height and with an eager-looking expression on his face, he asks again: "Are you going to come with me?"_

 _Hajime lays his pen down, eyes never leaving Tooru's and his mouth is pressed into a thin line without any words slipping out. Tooru feels his heart shake for the briefest of moments before Hajime finally nods._

" _Of course."_

 _Tooru lets out a pleased shriek before throwing himself at him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck and the strength of his jump is strong enough to make them fall onto their backs. They both laugh after that._

* * *

" _We're going to be the best!"_

" _Why can't we win, Iwa-chan?" Tears are flowing freely on the soft, pale skin of his cheek, his hands desperately clutch a volley ball he's been practicing his serves with._

 _Hajime is next to him; for the first time in a long while, they are not facing each other. They just can't._

 _It's the second time they lost while being just_ so _close to reach the top and go to Nationals. So close and yet, they couldn't even manage to get a set for themselves and have a chance to fight._

 _Wakatoshi and Shiratorizawa would never let that happen._

" _I thought I could make you the best, Iwa-chan. I'm so sorry," Tooru whispers before the ball falls from his hand and he brings it on his face to wipe the salty drops away with his wrist._

" _It's not your fault."_

 _Tooru cries harder and Hajime desperately tries to hold back, puts a hand on Tooru's back and then slides it up until he is gripping his shoulder. "It's not your fault." His hold on him is tight, because he doesn't want to let him go and Tooru doesn't want to be let gone of._

 _Tooru wonders whose fault it is, just for a while, until Hajime's lips are over his in the softest of contacts and his eyes are wide. He doesn't ask himself that again for a good amount of time and sleeps instead, as soon as the shock is replaced by a warm feeling on the spot where his heart is beating._

* * *

" _Calm down, you idiot!"_

 _Tooru's hand is centimeters away from the first-year's face, blue eyes watch in shock as the volley ball he held so close to his heart falls on the floor, bouncing away._

 _Tooru can't believe he lost control like this... He almost hurt a teammate because he's a really good player? How could he be so-_

" _I'm sorry."_

 _Kageyama, that's enough for today," Hajime's voice is weak in his ears, he doesn't look at him, too ashamed of meeting Tobio's gaze after he almost hit him. He doesn't see when the expression on the young boy's face grows darker, full with disappointment and shock before he walks away without saying anything._

 _Tooru remembers waking up that evening, Hajime's words echoing in the back of his mind and pulling him back to consciousness._

.

" _With six people, the strong ones are even stronger!"_

* * *

" _Iwa-chan..."_

 _They kiss again, this time it feels hotter, messier but it feels right. Tooru pushes him down onto his futon gently, before crawling on top of him and taking off his shirt. It lands somewhere on the other side of the room, but none of them seems to care._

 _His hand slides down to Hajime's chest and disappears in the waistband of his pants, and Hajime groans, back arching into his touch._

 _Tooru will never forget the rest of that night._

* * *

" _Oh, a genuine smile... How rare."_

 _Hajime's voice is calm and, for a moment, Tooru's smile widens, before he finally realizes the insult and turns around with a fake hurt expression. "How mean, Iwa-chan! My smile is always genuine and pure!"_

" _Genuine and pure coming from your mouth already sounds impure," Hajime tells him, but he is smiling. And Tooru doesn't get angry - he could never get angry at him. He only approaches him and hits him lightly on the shoulder and Hajime laughs._

 _They might have lost again, but this time he is returning home with his first set won against Shiratorizawa and a_ Best Setter Award _in his hands. He has never been happier, even though tears start falling from his eyes eventually._

" _We'll definitely beat Ushiwaka in high school," he says and it is a promise he intends to keep. Tears flow even more freely and now, even Hajime cries with him._

" _Yeah, we definitely will."_

 _Hajime's is a promise too. He will bring his setter to victory and then he will see that smile once again when they're standing above Shiratorizawa with a trophy in their hands._

* * *

" _Come to Shiratorizawa,"Wakatoshi tells him a week after the tournament's end._

 _Tooru shakes his head without thinking twice._

" _No."_

 _He walks away without saying anything else and Wakatoshi doesn't follow him._

* * *

" _Iwa-chan, what are you doing here?" Tooru tries to look as collected as possible, even though fatigue is more than visible all over his face - but he can hold on for five more minutes until Hajime leaves and he is free to return to the locker rooms and go home. After one last serve._

" _Don't you dare, Assikawa!" Hajime's voice echoes in the emty gym and Tooru gulps. In a breath, Hajime is in front of him. And then there is a kick in his ribs and the ball is taken away from his hands abruptly only to be thrown back into the cart. Tooru collapses. "Iwa-"_

" _Stretch and let's go home."_

" _But-"_

" _Do you want to hurt yourself again?!"_

 _Tooru looks down and stretches the way he was ordered. He doesn't want to get hurt again, he doesn't want to see Hajime cry like he did the first night when he thought Tooru was sleeping, a brace around his knee for the first time and paler skin than usual._

* * *

" _I'm sorry, Iwa-chan. I let you down again."_

" _You didn't. We were there all together; they were just stronger."_

 _Again._

* * *

" _A-ah... Tooru-"_

 _A kiss._

" _Iwa-chan, it hurts, ah!" Hajime's lips meet Tooru's and calloused thumbs are immediately wiping away the small tears spilling out from the corner of his eyes. Hajime moves again, entering inside of him some more; slowly, gently._

 _Tooru wraps his arms around him and feels those lips moving against his skin, whispering sweet, reassuring words in his ear and he finds himself forgetting all the pain, encircled by the warmth he learned to love as pleasure takes over._

" _F-faster, Hajime!"_

* * *

" _Tobio-chan's at Karasuno, Iwa-chan," the words come out of his mouth before he is able to control them and order them to stay in. He watches the net and the cart with the stored volley balls and his heart clenches painfully in his chest._

 _He feels Hajime's hand on his back. "You'll be fine."_

" _I have to get better."_

 _Or else he is going to be surpassed him._

 _Hajime kisses his neck gently, wrapping his arms around him. "I'm going to win with you (_ for you _), Oikawa."_

* * *

" _I'm sorry, Oikawa," Hajime whispers, settled between Tooru's legs and burying his face in his lap. He is covering himself with his arms, wanting so desperately to hide from those hazel eyes. And Tooru can't see him, but he knows he's crying. He can feel the wetness on the fabric of his sweatpants._

 _His hand moves through Hajime's spiky locks and caresses gently._

" _You wanted to go against him one last time, and I-"_

" _You didn't fail me, Iwa-chan," Tooru interrupts him before he can say it. He doesn't want to hear it, not after all the times the spiker told him a team is made of six people. He won't let him take the blame._

 _Hajime hears none of it though._

" _I did. I'm never enough to bring you where you deserve; just what kind of ace am I?"_

 _Tooru tells him he is his ace._

.

" _Oikawa, ah- I lo-"_

 _Tooru kisses him hard, the heat of the moment too overwhelming for him to connect. Their hips meet again and Hajime groans and Tooru sees black when he finally reaches his peek and cums inside of him before collapsing on top of his chest, their lips meeting, and he passes out before he is able to hear what Hajime wants to say._

* * *

" _I want you with me. I want you all to myself."_

* * *

" _What's wrong, Oikawa?"_

 _It comes unexpected and just like he predicted,Tooru doesn't want it to. Because it is not something he can tell him without ending up hurting them both._

" _Nothing's wrong, Iwa-chan. Why would it be?"_

 _Just this once he wishes Hajime could not read through him, but he can't always get what he wants apparently. "Oikawa-"_

 _Tooru shakes his head, wraps his arms around Hajime's neck and presses himself against him._

" _Kiss me, Iwa-chan."_

" _Don't let me go, Iwa-chan."_

" _I won't."_

" _Iwa-chan..."_

 _..._

" _Iwa-chan?"_

 _.._

" _Hajime."_

 _._

" _DON'T TOUCH ME!"_

 _Tooru doesn't even realize when Hajime's hand comes in contact with his cheek and breaks his lip, until he finds himself losing his balance and desperately struggles with everything he has and has not to stay on his feet. It's hard, but despite his own damage, he manages._

" _You make me sick."_

 _He kind of wishes didn't and fell instead, because those words feel like a much stronger blow._

 _He can hear the shattering noise of Hajime's heart when he rushes out of the door and can also feel the shattering of his own when he follows him to the stairs and watches him dressing up as if he weren't even here._

 _He wants to follow him and tape it all back together._

 _But-_

" _Don't you even dare to follow me, understood?!"_

* * *

" _Iwa-chan, I-"_

" _Don't call me that. Ever. Again."_

 _Tooru watches in disbelief._

 _But doesn't let go._

 _Hajime-_

" _I hate you."_

 _Hajime forces his way out and away from him._

* * *

"Hajime."

It slips from his lips when his eyes open and all he sees is the darkness he so longingly searched for before. He turns his head on the sides a couple of times, his body feeling too numb to sit up, and he looks for him, hoping everything was just a nightmare and nothing else. But he soon remembers he isn't at home; he isn't at Hajime's either.

Hajime isn't here.

He can't believe he thought he could be.

When he regains most of his breath, he forces himself into a sitting position, tries to forget about his screaming muscles and his hand moves on his forehead, wiping away the sweat. He misses the high temperature of his skin, but he's in no condition to realize.

He looks around some more, trying to remember everything and he does. He does.

His hand reaches out to his phone and he manages to press the main button so the screen lights up and his eyes are able to see the hour.

2:15 am.

Tooru struggles to accept that everything he managed to dream was fit into only a couple of hours of sleep. He feels his breathing growing heavy again as angst of the end of his nightmare pops on his mind again.

His throat starts to feel incredibly sore and he really needs to get rid of this thirst, so he pushes the covers off himself and gets out of the futon. Even his body is sore, the muscles of his legs are pulling with every move he makes as if he just returned from the roughest of practices, still exhausted and absolutely not satisfied by the low quality rest it got.

His knee hurts again, the effect of the painkillers disappeared before time and he almost collapses, holding back desperately a pained moan. He takes in a deep breath before moving forward and reach for the handle of the door. His hand finds the light switch next to it and soon the bedroom is illuminated for him to see.

He walks out, taking small, careful steps because he still doesn't know the place too well and his head isn't exactly bright enough to remember everything of it. But he remembers this hall and remembers where it leads to. He finds himself in front of the entrance soon and turns to get into the kitchen, so dark, but his eyes are now used to it and he sees it almost clearly.

He heads to the fridge and opens it. He grabs a bottle of water and then puts it on the counter before closing it carefully. He tries to be as quiet as possible when he moves around and looks around for a glass. He opens a couple of cupboards, but all he finds are plates and coffee mugs, and he curses for not looking at Wakatoshi when he was giving him water before.

"Are you looking for this?"

He gasps, turning to look on his side and Wakatoshi's there, in front of him, handing him the glass he is so desperately looking for. He takes it without saying a word, lays it on the counter and then pours the cool liquid in it until it is full.

"Something wrong, Oikawa?"

Tooru brings it to his lips, drinks everything down at once and when he puts the glass back down, satisfied, his eyes focus on Wakatoshi again. "No; everything's fine." He forces out a smile, small and hopeful, but Wakatoshi doesn't seem to buy any of it.

"Does your leg hurt?"

Tooru slams his hand against the counter, loud and rough. Broken. "I said everything's fine!" Wakatoshi doesn't reply to that, doesn't even flinch at the aggressive move. All he does is stare quietly as Tooru crumbles in front of him, lowering his head and biting the healthy part of his bottom lip.

"Nothing's fine."

Wakatoshi sees him down like this and he's not used to it, even though he was able to witness it last night as well, but still... It's not the way Tooru usually behaves around him, not even when he loses.

He takes a step closer, moving his hand on his shoulder and Tooru immediately looks up. Wakatoshi motions towards his room. "Let's get you back to bed. You need more rest," he tells him and Tooru nods and follows him when he leads him out. As soon as they're in the hall, Wakatoshi slows down until he is at Tooru's side.

He never speaks, only breathes quietly.

When they are inside the room, Tooru immediately returns to the futon, walking past the spiker and brushing his shoulder against him slightly, and lowers down, and it's hard for him to bend his knee, but when Wakatoshi is about to get next to him to help him out, he lets himself fall and then pulls the covers over himself with a huff.

"Do you need anything?" Wakatoshi asks, sitting next to him.

Tooru's knee still hurts, even now that he is lying down. He shouldn't have gotten up, he knows that far too well from his past experiences. He wonders if it will go away by the next morning, even though he has never been so lucky for that to happen. "I need painkillers."

"No."

Tooru knows he took them only some hours ago and he shouldn't be taking anymore until the next morning, but there's no way he can handle this. He pouts, looking away from the spiker. "I won't be able to sleep if the pain doesn't stop."

Wakatoshi shakes his head slightly. "You already took more than you should have even though I warned you not to. Try not to think about it."

Tooru laughs dryly. "My, my, Ushiwaka-chan... You _really_ never injured yourself, did you? he says as he rolls on his back, covering his eyes with his arm, not really wanting to see the light anymore. He is not going to have anything of what he needs, so he should just focus on falling back asleep and hope his will is going to be enough.

"Let me see."

Tooru doesn't even think about it and moves the covers away from it. Wakatoshi is immediately above him, big hands rolling up the sweatpants until the bandages are visible again. His fingers move over them and he quietly considers if it would be wise for him to remove them or not. But not having pressure would make it even more painful, so he opts for the second.

He slowly starts to give him a massage, gently but still strong enough for it to have effect on the muscles of his leg. Tooru sits up slowly, moves backwards until his head is leaned on the wall behind him. His eyes follow his movements, his body savors the once again gentleness that seems so uncharacteristic for someone like Wakatoshi.

The pain starts to lessen, turning into something more bearable, more pleasing...

His body slides forward, his head falls back onto the pillow and feels his consciousness slipping away for him.

Wakatoshi doesn't fail to notice it, of course, and he stops moving his hands, readjusting his pants properly again and putting the injured leg under the covers like every other part of him is and adjusts the blanket better over him before he retreats.

He doesn't get to stand up, because Tooru's hand comes out and grabs his wrist, holding him in place. "Thanks."

Wakatoshi returns to his spot, gold eyes observe everything of the sight in front of him. "Do you need anything else? Can I return to the living room?"

"Stay."

Wakatoshi blinks.

Tooru licks his lips, closing his eyes. "Stay here until morning," he mumbles before he moves onto the side, reaching the edge of the futon, close to the wall, and makes Wakatoshi space to join him. He doesn't want to be alone, doesn't want the nightmares to fill his head and terrorize him in his sleep. He craves rest, and craves contact, even if Wakatoshi is the only one who can give it to him in this very moment. If he is left alone now, he doesn't know if he is going to be able to handle it.

Wakatoshi stands up, still without giving him an answer and Tooru feels a lump growing in his throat, making it hard to breathe. He doesn't watch him when he walks towards the door and switches the lights off. He doesn't want to watch him leave.

Then there is silence.

"Ushiwaka...chan?"

Is he gone?

And then finally, _finally_ the footsteps are coming closer once again, and when he feels his strong presence above him, shivers run down his spine and a weird feeling is born in his stomach. But it is not fear, nor tension; just... excitement? No, it isn't that strong and messy, though there definitely is some of it.

When Wakatoshi lies down, without touching him, but is here, next to him, he understands. It is relief.

Wakatoshi gives him his space as well, and Tooru could comfortably keep lying on his back, but he turns over to face the wall and gives his back to the spiker, who shifts as well.

So they lie, back against back, with only a couple of centimeters between them, which are still enough for them to feel each other's warmth. But to Tooru it's enough, enough to know he isn't alone - and even though he isn't Hajime, there's that weak feeling of comfort and safety he feels with him. It is weak, but it's there and it is going to be enough.

"Goodnight, Ushiwaka-chan," he whispers, shifting slightly to adjust his arms and he accidentally brushes against the other and feels his cheeks heat up.

"Goodnight."

Silence dawns upon them.

Tooru can't relax the way he wants, even though he got the company he wanted so much but it is not enough. He really needs to talk, to tell him. But why would he care? Wakatoshi must want him to separate from Hajime, because it'd be easier for him to get under his skin until he's his. Tooru knows what he wants, and he knows what he has to do to make Tooru crumble.

Maybe the confirmation of their broken relationship is all he wants to know and Tooru needs, wants to say it. Even if it's going to make it more real than it already is.

"I've had a fight with Iwa-chan."

He swallows after that, closing his eyes and waiting.

No answer is given to his words and Tooru stops breathing. He waits for a whole minute, before he turns his head slightly. "Ushiwaka-chan, are you already asle-"

"Why are you telling me this?"

Tooru's instinctive reaction is to wrap his arms around himself and it seems natural, so natural Wakatoshi doesn't notice it. And Tooru doesn't know why he is saying it out loud right now - there will be plenty of time if he doesn't manage to fix it, but his words came out on their own. "I just needed to say it, I guess," he whispers and it seems more real than Wakatoshi has ever heard him speak.

He rolls over, so he is lying on his back; gold eyes immediately find the setter but he doesn't move enough to touch him, even though their closeness wouldn't require much of a movement anyway.

When Tooru feels him turn around, he immediately curls into a ball, bringing his legs to his chest and burying his face into them. All of a sudden, he feels so cold. Just like before.

"I've been such an idiot; I still am. I didn't tell him anything of what happened between us, that we-" He doesn't finish the sentence, because Wakatoshi can figure it out. Then Tooru takes in a deep breath and, after a couple of seconds, resumes talking. "He found your jacket in my wardrobe and everything turned into such a mess after that." His voice cracks at the end, but he doesn't break, doesn't let the tears accompany it.

It is not the right moment for that. He already cried enough when he wasn't supposed to.

"Is he responsible for the cut on your lip?" Wakatoshi asks all of a sudden; Tooru's eyes widen for a split second, before they narrow and the setter raises his hand to touch the wound once more.

"I don't even know how it happened." He still wants to believe it was because of the constant chewing he put the sensitive skin through and not because of the slap. He wants to believe it, even if he knows it is not true.

He listens to Wakatoshi's soft breathing and then hears a sigh.

"I am sorry."

Tooru's eyes widen and this time they stay like that.

That tone of voice... So sincere and truthful it is almost creepy; it rings in his ears, gets into his brain and impresses itself into his memory for him to never forget. He turns around, hazel eyes searching for that impassible face and he finds it looking just the way he imagined it for that brief second.

"Are you apologizing for what _we_ did?" Tooru makes sure to emphasize the plural pronoun. Wakatoshi might have started it, but he also agreed on it and, despite he wants to put all the blame on him, he was in there too. So, blame it on his injuries, or on everything he owes him for the help he gave him (and still is), Tooru just can't put everything on him.

He turns around completely, still lying on his size, but this time he's fully facing the spiker. Could it be that he is regretting it? Tooru wonders why the only thought of it stings. He should be happy about it, shouldn't he? So why-

"No."

Wakatoshi doesn't move, gold is still fixed on him even though he doesn't move and Tooru stops breathing. "Wh-"

"I am sorry it ended like this for you, Oikawa. But I do not regret having sex with you that night."

Tooru blinks.

 _Oh._

His mouth opens but, as no sound comes out, it closes again and he lets himself fall back onto the futon and looks away from that stare.

They don't speak for a while and Toru starts to feel cold, _so fucking cold_ he feels his whole body trembling. He grits his teeth, desperately trying to hide it.

But Wakatoshi sees. He always sees when he tries not to let him.

And he can't help but find it weird, because they are lying under a rather heavy blanket and, to make it even warmer, there is two of them in a limited amount of space which should be used by one person only, and Wakatoshi can't help but feel confused.

"Are you feeling cold, Oikawa?"

He observes as the setter tenses, still looking everywhere but him. "A bit." From the way it looks, it is much more than just a bit, Wakatoshi figures. He moves closer to him, and Tooru is finally looking up, grabs the blanket and pulls it up on the other's body until it reaches his ears. Then he adjusts it so he is sure it won't lower too much if the other moves and when he's done, he pats his shoulder gently, just to be sure he is still awake. "Better?"

Tooru nods and, although Wakatoshi can't see it - _and_ _thank God he can't see it -_ smiles.

Wakatoshi's hand moves into his hair, giving him one last caress before he pulls away and reduces their brief contact to zero. "Try to get some sleep now," he tells him as he turns on his side like before and Tooru closes his eyes with the last thing he sees being the spiker's back.

Wakatoshi settles comfortably against his pillow and follows soon after.

.

Half an hour passes by and Tooru moves forward, the warmth of the spiker attracting him with the ability to make the cold go away - the heavy blanket isn't enough after all. Hazel eyes open ever so slightly before he falls into temptation and buries his face in the space between Wakatoshi's shoulder blades. He doesn't know how he lowered so much under the covers to reach them - maybe it is because he is still clutched as much as his body allows him, but he doesn't bring himself to care.

His hands move in front of him and his fingers intertwine themselves in the cotton of Wakatoshi's shirt, right over his ribs and for a moment Tooru lets them move over the hard muscles under it, just to make sure this is real and not another soon-to-be nightmare.

He is somehow glad to know he is not going to turn into one and his eyes flutter close for the last time and he inhales, his body shivering after the spiker's scent surrounds him and his soft breathing lulls him to the kind of sleep he needs, this time peaceful and quiet.

He doesn't let go of him though, only grips tighter.


End file.
